


Vitae Explicare Memento

by sapphirephoenix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirephoenix/pseuds/sapphirephoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus sacrificed a great many things ensuring that the Dark Lord fell, most notably his young wife, Hermione. It was to his great surprise that he should find her in a bookshop one day, years later, with no memories whatsoever of him... or their daughter. In search of her past, and perhaps her humanity, can the disaffected Gretchen trust this dark, mysterious man?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A great many hands have helped me make this story what it is. Any errs are my own.
> 
> This is a WiP, but I have a healthy pile of chapters. My **intention** is to post Sunday mornings, East Coast Time, US. However, I'm terrible with administration, so patience, please.

Prologue

October 31, 1998

The second Voldemort War was over. The Dark Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle, was gone.

Severus was too shocked to absorb this information, and he sank into the rocking chair in his daughter’s nursery, the site of the Dark Lord’s demise. It was the very chair his wife had sat in while she fed their baby a short while ago. She’d chosen it especially for the gliding feature; she insisted they get it from a Muggle shop. The smooth back and forth lulled Severus’s rattling mind as he tried to piece together all that had happened.

The Marriage Law had passed. The law’s champion, the Dark Lord, had made it clear what was to be expected of Severus, his most trusted minion and spy. He was a wizard over the age of thirty with at least one pure-blood parent, and thus, had been required to marry. What was more; Lord Voldemort had had a bride in mind for him already: the most trusted follower of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger.

When Severus had informed Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort’s rival and nemesis, of the development, Dumbledore took the information with surprising grace.

Severus was immediately suspicious but did not inquire. Anything that Albus didn’t tell him, he could earnestly say he did not know and, instead, divulge other, more important business.

The prospect of marriage had not thrilled Severus or his bride. For him, it was yet another manoeuvre he made to serve his purpose; in her mind and in her heart, she was making a sacrifice for the cause. It would become the most important sacrifice she could make.

Hermione Granger married Severus Snape on her eighteenth birthday.

They agreed to be as polite as possible and had eventually found some sexual compatibility. Three months after they were married, she became pregnant. 

The pregnancy pleased Lord Voldemort greatly, and he informed Severus that he would be coming to collect the child shortly after it was born.

Severus quickly agreed, despite his desire to throttle the Dark Lord with his own two hands. When Severus had learned of the pregnancy, his grudging respect for his wife had burnt into complete adoration. His hatred for Voldemort grew exponentially at the thought of the Dark Lord near his family.

Regardless of that, Hermione was never informed of the Dark Lord’s plans. Albus convinced Severus not to tell her, but to be prepared and to prepare Harry Potter.

What Severus did not know what that Hermione had also had a secret. She had never told her husband that before they had married, Albus had taken her aside and told her that if she felt anything _unusual_ happen to come to him and only him.

Almost as soon as she had conceived the baby, she had felt her magic grow right along with the life inside of her. She went to Albus, and he smiled at her. He told her everything was in order, and she had nothing to worry about.

Of course, what neither Severus nor Hermione knew was that Albus also had a secret. What he had not told her was that she would be the element that helped Harry Potter win the war against Voldemort. Albus knew that the day Voldemort came to take baby Snape would be his last.

And so it happened.

It was the night that Severus was to expect Voldemort to collect his daughter. Harry Potter, whose mother had protected her infant son from Voldemort seventeen years earlier, stood under his father’s invisibility cloak, waiting for the Dark Lord. He watched as Hermione nursed her daughter and put her to bed. Just as the child dozed to the tune of her mother’s lullaby, they felt the wards drop, and after a few tense moments, the Dark Lord entered the nursery.

He demanded the infant from the young mother. She drew her wand and aimed it at the wizard’s chest. He chuckled mirthlessly and began to approach the witch. With a silent command he disarmed her.

Lord Voldemort offered Hermione her life in exchange for that of her daughter. He said it with generosity, as if it was an act of kindness towards the desperate, trembling witch.

What he did not know was that she was not trembling in fear. 

Hermione Snape stood quaking with unbridled magical powers. They were beginning to seep from her every pore. Fuelled by the love of a mother for her child, Hermione began to glow pure white. As she grew brighter, Voldemort began to weaken. Finally, Hermione seemed to burst in a great show of magical expulsion.

Never taking his eyes off the Dark Lord, Harry Potter cast the killing curse on the wretched wizard and watched his body fall. They would dismantle his body, drawing it apart, burning the pieces, and forbidding the soul from re-entering the world.

When Harry looked up to check on his long-time friend, she was not there. There was only a soft white light surrounding the baby in the cot.

Harry called her name before falling miserably to his knees, weeping for his friend who had seemed to cease to exist.

Severus Snape, who had been waiting in his bedroom, burst through the door which joined the master bedroom to the nursery. He had heard none of the commotion through the door. He was shocked to see the body of the Dark Lord crumpled on the floor, Harry Potter weeping inconsolably by the cot, and his perfect daughter sleeping soundly.

“Where’s Granger?” the wizard demanded. He did not see her corpse, and yet Harry wept as if she were dead.

“Gone…. She… burst into white light... when he threatened the baby. ...She crippled Voldemort... so I was able to kill him,” Harry managed between his sobs.

By all logic, Hermione had died for her daughter, helping to defeat Voldemort. The war was over. 

Dropping his head into his hands, Severus breathed deep. From the moment he’d learned of Hermione’s pregnancy, she was no longer his partner on a mission, but his wife, the mother of his child, and he knew to his core that he would have died for them. Now, Hermione had died for them instead.

He couldn’t believe it.

What was more; he was a free man, a widower with a daughter. Severus looked at the cot a few steps away. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do with himself.


	2. Chapter 1

2003

In the brief time that they had been married, one of the few things that Severus was able to enjoy with his wife was their love of books. They had both spent time in the Muggle world, and they had divulged the great secrets of where their favourite book shops were.

Potter had the baby for the day, and Severus was relaxing, wandering among the stacks at one of Hermione’s shops. He had been having an unshakeable feeling of nostalgia, which was how he found himself there on a warm Saturday afternoon.

As he ran his fingers over the spines, looking for something new, a head of bushy brown hair in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Turning, he looked at the young woman who possessed it.

It was none other than his late wife.

His heart leapt, and his blood ran cold. Shelving the book he had just pulled out, Severus wound a serpentine path toward his prey. He observed her from an adjacent row of books. She was drumming her fingers on the shelf, her hip cocked to one side as she balanced some books there.

From the way she scowled at the stacks, Severus could tell something was not right.

He moved to the other side of his row, checking her book selection without giving himself away. The books were all about cognition and memory. 

_Curious._

Severus took his browsing even closer to her, quietly excusing himself when his elbow brushed against hers. Their eyes met, and she smiled politely before moving a little bit away from him.

She hadn’t recognised him, and Severus knew a face like his was hard to forget.

Based on the books she was holding, he could assume she was working on her memory. How like Hermione to turn to books. Then he noticed the section he was in. The beginning of the row was scientific psychology, but it bled into self-help books after a few shelves.

Giving another sideways glance to the woman, he saw her scowling critically at the back of a book as she tried to discern its worth. Severus couldn’t help but curl his lip in derision. He heard her murmur something, possibly the words ‘worthless tripe’, before forcefully shelving it.

Severus let the side of his lip curl up. Of course, it was not the side of his mouth she could see. He turned his attention back to her. She was eyeing something on the top shelf, just out of her reach.

“May I?” Severus asked and lifted his hand in the general direction she was looking.

Startled out of her thoughts, she nodded and pointed to the book she wanted. She had stepped back to allow him to move into the area.

Severus knew this was his opportunity, and as he handed her the book, their eyes met. He infiltrated her mind and lingered a moment. There were memories of a cheap flat, some roommates, some university classes, and many doctors’ offices.

There was not a trace of the Wizarding world, or any world in fact, until very recently. He wasn’t surprised. There was a portion of her mind that was heavily occluded. It piqued his interest, but he knew better than to try to penetrate it in the middle of a Muggle bookshop.

Pulling away, he saw her blushing and realised that he must appear to be some sort of creep. No young woman wanted an ugly man twice her age to be gazing deeply into her eyes. He looked away dropping his chin, trying to look contrite.

“I apologise. That was inappropriate of me,” Severus offered, hoping she wasn’t about to flee from him.

The girl smiled and mumbled, “No problem,” before looking at the book.

Severus excused himself and moved away from her quickly enough to make distance without looking as if he was fleeing. When he found a safe place, he reached into his pocket for the Galleon that he and Potter used to communicate when Potter was watching his daughter.

_Come._

Severus then positioned himself where he could wait for Potter’s entrance while keeping an eye on his prey in the meantime. It was just a few minutes before Potter walked through the door. In his arms was a little girl, and Severus smiled and walked to meet them. 

Potter saw him immediately, and the boy couldn’t hold a back a snort at Severus’ black jeans, black boots, black t-shirt. Severus had heard it all before. He smiled instead and tickled the little girl in his arms.

His daughter, Aurora, well Rori, was his absolute delight in life. She had his silky black hair, his complexion, and her lips were shaped like his, although fuller. The rest of her was all Hermione: curls and nose and bucked teeth already. She was stubborn and impertinent, just like her mother too.

“Good afternoon, darling. Did you miss your father?” he asked as she leaned out of Potter’s arms and into his.

She hugged Severus tightly as Potter ran through the events of the day. 

Severus knew he was just acting his part. The way he’d been summoned, Potter would want to know what they were doing there.

“Potter, I think there’s something you’d like to see over in Self-help,” Severus said as he walked towards the children’s books. He set Rori down and moved to where he could watch his daughter and still see what Potter would do.

Potter was a shit spy, walking directly over to where Severus had told him to go without so much as a second glance anywhere else. Upon seeing the young woman who was now squatting in front of the low shelves, Harry couldn’t help but exclaim, “Hermione?” 

The girl looked up, confused, and then looked around her. Severus watched it all, rolling his eyes when Potter stuck his foot in it.

Luckily, Harry caught himself quickly and fell right into being a cute but bumbling young man, or so Severus supposed. At least he didn’t take after his arrogant arse of a father.

“Er, sorry—you look just like an old school mate of mine,” Harry said as he wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it to her. “I’m uhm, Harry Potter.”

Severus thought it was strange to see him introduce himself to her again, but she clearly didn’t remember. This made Severus all the more sure that something was amiss. To be so blocked as to forget her best friend, Hermione must be buried deep below the surface.

“Nice to meet you.” The girl smiled again. It was the same polite, almost tight smile that Severus had received.

That too sounded alarms for Severus. It was one thing to be civil to someone like Severus. For a young woman to be merely civil in response to the attentions of a bloke her age was something entirely different.

As Potter moved away, she did not get up but moved back to her quest for books. Harry awkwardly excused himself. Again with the stealth of an elephant, he came to where Severus was watching Rori read in an oversized chair. 

They shared a look, and Severus said, “Perhaps you would like to come for tea? I think I’ll be inviting Albus as well.”

Potter nodded his agreement to come to Severus’s place later that afternoon. He ruffled Rori’s hair, and left the shop.

Severus held his position, now giving his daughter the lion’s share of his attention, but they stayed long enough to see the woman finish her shopping and pay for her things.

He was going to have his work cut out for him.

* * *

Over the next week, Severus spoke with Potter and Albus about what he’d seen, and they’d talked to Minerva and Lupin as well. Severus had even prodded a couple of contacts he had at St. Mungo’s, but there was nothing pertinent to be learned.

Instead, every night after Rori was asleep, Severus would sit in the living room and brood. He knew every inch of Hermione’s body, and that was certainly it. But whose brain was inside? What had happened?

Twice during the week, he’d found himself at the mantel over the fireplace stroking Hermione’s wand on its stand. She smiled down at him and waved from a photo as he did. Looking at her, at her _wand_ only made him more curious and unsettled. That was why he’d felt so compelled to go back to the shop, and the next Saturday found Severus there. He had to see her again, as unlikely and improbable as it would be. At the very least, he had to do some reconnaissance and figure out how to strike up a conversation with her.

The first of his concerns, tracking her down again, was impossibly easy to solve; she was there when he arrived. However, that was only the beginning of his problems. Luckily, there was a little tea room in the shop behind the occult section, and Severus quickly bought a novel and moved to sit with cup of tea, a scone, and his book. He was ready for a long stakeout.

He knew she had not left while he’d pulled himself together. After looking around the store a moment, he found she was not holding any scientific books or standing in the self-help section as she was last week. Now she was building up stacks at her feet of occult books and dream interpretation.

Severus snorted as the girl scowled at the books on dreams. _Was her **inner eye** opening?_ Severus doubted it, almost as much as she probably did.

Finally the girl took the fourteen books she’d found and purchased them. As she was tucking things into a leather rucksack, she noticed him.

Severus could practically feel the recognition as it swept over her face. Then she seemed to be deciding something. The next thing he knew she was sliding into the chair across from him and studying him mercilessly.

Finally deciding for a verbal interrogation instead of a visual one, the girl asked, “Excuse me, but… Who are you?”

Severus slowly marked his page, closed the book, and set it on the table. “My name is Severus Snape; I’m a professor at a private school in Scotland. And who are you?”

His tone was somewhere between playful and acidic. He was angry at himself for not accounting for the possibility that this girl, like Hermione, might just go for what she was after.

She sat back and sighed. “I don’t know. I showed up at hospital three years ago with no memories. I don’t feel things like most people do and I don’t dream. I mean I didn’t dream. I had never dreamed about anything until one week ago.”

Severus slowly took a sip from his mug. His face stayed neutral as he began the waiting game.

She was very patient, which pleased him a lot. “So you do not have a name then?” 

“Oh, erm, I’m sorry; my name is Gretchen,” the girl said and extended her hand.

 _Gretchen?_ Severus couldn’t fathom that name on her, and yet, it soon began to seem right.

“I’d say it’s a pleasure, Gretchen, except that I don’t know what spurred you to interrupt my tea.” Severus leaned forward across the table.

“Well, you did something to me!” she insisted. “…When you were looking at me!”

“What could I have done to you by looking at you?” Severus needled gently.

“I don’t know, but it was something. It was as though I could feel things happening in my brain.”

“Do you understand how ludicrous that sounds?” Severus asked seriously.

She considered it and opened her mouth after a little while to respond, but Severus cut her off.

“I must apologise again for my behaviour last week. I can only explain myself by saying that I was struck by how much your eyes look like those of my late wife. I am afraid I forgot myself for a moment.”

This seemed to shut the girl up. She was reasonably sympathetic to his tale. Too much so, perhaps. As if she had put in a good deal of practice in determining how much response some news warranted.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She swallowed loudly.

Gretchen toyed with an advert on the table and frowned. At first Severus thought that she was overly affected by what he’d said, but then he remembered seeing that frown on Hermione’s face when she was doing her coursework. It was a look of concentration, not emotion.

Gretchen tipped the paper flyer over and then righted it. As the flat of her hand smacked the table quietly she said, “But, it doesn’t explain why I’ve started dreaming now and didn’t in hospital while they were measuring my R.E.M. patterns and testing me to see if I was a sociopath.”

“Why on earth would they think that you were a sociopath?” Severus was intrigued.

“Well because I…,” Gretchen looked away. “I don’t emote. However, they decided I’m not because I never showed malice in the three months I was kept there, and I know the difference between right and wrong. I just don’t emote, not on any significant scale, anyway. They say I have brain damage, but they can’t localise it, so they let me out into the populace. Wasn’t that nice of them?” Gretchen added sarcastically.

Severus stared at her for a long time, occasionally turning his chin every so often to designate that he wasn’t just glaring. It was playing his hand much sooner than he had planned to, but Hermione’s brain was probably in that occluded portion of this Gretchen person.

He wanted his wife, the mother of his beautiful daughter, to return, and he wasn’t about to sit idly by when the opportunity arose.

“Well, if you are asking me and I’m no specialist, I would say that there was an event in your life that you could not handle emotionally, and you have repressed your memories as a coping method. But, that’s only if you are asking. The question becomes, what do you intend to do about it?”

Would she take the bait?

“Well, I would want to know, wouldn’t I?” she asked, almost accusingly, as if he had personally stolen her life from her. He had, of course, just not the way she thought.

“What if it was horrible, the stuff of nightmares?” Severus wished he could list the various things that had happened to her during her time at Hogwarts: three-headed dogs, basilisks, fighting Death Eaters.

“I’m no coward,” she argued.

Severus swallowed the last dregs of his tea. She had said enough to convince him.

He pulled a chain from inside the neck of his shirt and carefully removed it. Then he held it tightly in his palm, silently casting a spell to make it into a Portkey.

Gretchen watched him avidly. He was acting strangely, but Severus knew her curiosity would win out.

When the spell was finished, Severus looked deep into her eyes, and nearly whispered, “Tell me, Gretchen, do things ever happen when you are particularly frustrated or feeling out of control? Do things break mysteriously when you are around?”

She nodded at him dumbly, unable to break his gaze.

“Good. I am going to give you this necklace. Try not to lose it; I may want it back one day. Most importantly though, when you truly wish to know, just hold it in your hand and say the word ‘Portus’.”

Then, Severus placed the chain in her hand, gathered his book and left.


	3. Chapter 2

Gretchen watched the strange man, _Snape_ , leave and then she slumped further into her chair.

Why had she been so compelled to sit with this strange man with the strange name and discuss her strange life?

At the table, Gretchen let the chain dangle from her fingers. The charm that dropped to the bottom took her breath away. She had one identifying mark, a small pink scar on her left hip in the shape of a bird; she thought it was a phoenix. Whatever it was, it was the same as the burnished silver charm that hung from the man’s necklace.

She gathered her things to leave, unaware that she pulled the middle of her lower lip between her teeth, she was so lost in concentration.

* * *

Gretchen did not say the word that Snape had told her later that day, or the day after, or the day after that. She thought about using it, but she couldn’t muster the faith in this word, this “Portus”.

As the weeks bled away and she went about her life, she quickly forgot about the necklace in her jewellery box too. She would get up, go to her job, order takeaway when she hadn’t made it to the shops. Life went back to normal.

Her nights were peaceful and dreamless. Gretchen decided that what dreams she’d had were anomalies, and she shrugged them off.

She thought nothing of all that for a few weeks, until she thought she saw that Harry Potter person in the bookshop. She had been walking in as he had been walking out, and she had been fighting her umbrella so she hadn’t really been paying attention. Once it dawned on her, she turned to look for him, but there was a great bolt of lightning and a loud crack, and she couldn’t see him anywhere.

That’s when the dreams started up again. She dreamt that night and every night after. Whisps of dreams lingered in the morning if she was lucky enough to grab a strand of them in her mind before she found her way to her morning shower, but she had to be very, very lucky.

A blond boy being mean to her.

A large castle.

A giant.

They seemed so, so real as she tossed and turned, and she hated to lose that, even when they weren’t pleasant.

It was weeks after the non-sighting of Harry Potter that Gretchen overturned her jewellery box and Snape’s phoenix necklace fell far away from the others. She picked it up and looked at it for a good long while.

That dark brooding man who had given her the necklace had never come back.

Or had he? Gretchen had been frequenting other bookshops more often. She preferred shops with smaller crowds. Too many people made her... uncomfortable.

It had to be her imagination, but she always felt like a bull in a china shop when too much was happening, and she couldn’t control it. The doctors had told her was ‘anxiousness’. Gretchen didn’t think it was that, really. More like a foreign buzzing in her skull that she could not adequately describe.

When she was ‘anxious’ things would break. Gretchen was clever enough to know that it was her fault. It always happened where she was, so obviously she was doing it. People would look around for the cause, but Gretchen could not find it in herself to feel what the doctors had called ‘embarrassment’.

Bugger the lot of them, she thought. It wasn’t her fault that their windows would shatter or their carpets would split in two, right down the middle. It’s not as if she’d thrown a stone or slashed the floors intentionally. How does one even explain that? What would that serve, except to make her a menace? She simply mirrored the odd looks that the others had, and regurgitated the idle prattle that always came up. ‘How curious!’ ‘What on Earth?’ ‘How did that happen?’

Now that she was holding Snape’s necklace, though, she remembered that he’d asked about it, out of the blue. They’d barely spoken and yet, he _knew_.

Did it happen to him, too? Had he been returning to that bookshop, looking for her, for his necklace, all this time? What had she missed by just falling back into her normal routine?

Gretchen went to the shop that day after work. She went the next day and then the next. She would wait as long as she thought was reasonable. Eventually, she began working for them, cataloguing books just so she could be there as much as possible. She didn’t need the money--she’d gotten a good job out of uni, but she couldn’t douse the need to be _there_ in case he came back.

One day, when the Christmas rush was on, two girls came into the shop—one blonde and one with auburn hair. The girl with the auburn hair stopped in her tracks the moment she laid eyes on Gretchen, then ran to the loos. Gretchen had heard her sobs just as she went to the door. The blonde girl followed her friend in, and came out alone after a while.

Gretchen had been shelving books that had just arrived when the blonde came up to her and asked the most bizarre question.

“Can you tell me where to find a book on applications for Thestral mane?”

What on Earth was a Thestral? Flabbergasted, Gretchen watched the other girl play with the stick that held her bun in its knot. Then she just walked away. It was as if she’d totally forgotten she’d asked the ridiculous question she had.

The two girls left immediately after, making no show of browsing the books.

The Christmas crowds were thick when two young men, one with dark hair and a round face came, the other tall and slender with red hair. That second chap made a really poor showing of browsing for books. He would pull one off the shelf, flip it open to a random page, stare blankly a moment, and finally, re-shelve the book in entirely the wrong place.

Gretchen fumed as she cleaned up after him. Then the buzzing began to sound in the back of her head, and she had to beg off early before she broke something in the shop she’d begun to think of as her own.

On Christmas morning, she lay in bed wondering what was going on. Were they people who recognized her? Did they think they were lost friends like that Harry had? Why didn’t they ever speak to her, apart from that one bizarre time?

Where was Severus Snape? She had taken to wearing the necklace all the time. That was months-- _years_ ago now. Would this be the rest of her life?

Rolling out of bed, Gretchen wrote it off as a bad job. Apart from the occasional bit of odd behaviour, nothing had changed.

_She_ had not changed, neither improving nor declining. The doctors had said that maybe, if she was patient and open to change, _maybe_ she would get her memories back, get some emotion in her life. They seemed to think there were no resources left for her. They had done what they could and sent her on her way.

Gretchen often felt like a stranger in a strange land. She couldn’t laugh, rarely cried unless she was hurt, and couldn’t find any reason to be invested in another person.

Her dabbles into sex had been… unimpressive. She’d felt certain that sex should be a passionate affair, and she was steadfast that she would not settle for less. She would be damned if she’d put up with bad sex just for the sake of having it, and since she had so little interest in men to begin with, she’d given up on that as well.

Instead, Gretchen went about her life. She worked her two jobs and kept up her flat and tucked her money away for retirement.

When she was over-tired sometimes, she would reminisce over the days that she’d met Snape and Potter, and she looked forward to the moments when she thought that people from her past were brushing against her life.

However, Gretchen was certain that whatever door Severus Snape had opened for her had long since closed. It was the only thing she could bring herself to feel about, wistful and disappointed in herself. She had told the man that she was no coward, and yet, she’d never even tried.


	4. Chapter 3

2008

It was Rori’s tenth birthday, and Severus had every Weasley, Potter, and member of the Order in his house for the event. He and Rori had just got back from Japan, where Severus had been studying parental magic.

Since the last time he’d seen Hermione, or Gretchen rather, he’d decided that she hadn’t died and come back, but merely been transported. He theorised that the magic and motherly love that had thrust her out of existence as they knew it was the same as what Lily had done for Harry, only she hadn’t had the magic to survive.

He had spoken only to Potter and Albus about his thoughts. Potter because he had stuck to the bereaved Snapes when they’d lost Hermione. He may have married Ginevra Weasley and started his own family, but Potter had never given up on Hermione – either on the idea of her when they thought she was dead or on hope for her when she’d been found in Muggle London. Severus spoke to Albus because he was his friend and mentor, but also because the man was a vault of information like few others. Both believed his theory, and they were more than happy to aid him in returning Hermione back to where she belonged.

Severus surveyed the room. Everyone was enjoying the party. Then Harry sidled up next to him where he leaned against the wall.

“You are going tomorrow?” Harry asked with his mouth in his cup.

Severus confirmed with a drop of his chin.

“And what if Gretchen doesn’t want to come?”

“She won’t be Gretchen when I am finished with her.” Severus curled his lip in irritation.

“She’s got a life, Snape.”

“She works two jobs and lives in a flat by herself. It’s no life. She needs her daughter."

With no further explanation, Severus approached Rori, his calm but pleasant mood fuelling her exuberance as he led her over to a mountain of presents.

* * *

The next day was Sunday, and Severus Apparated to an alley by Gretchen's flat. He had two ideas about how he could carry out Gretchen's abduction. One was to talk it through, using his honeyed words to draw her out. The other was to stupefy her and Apparate away. 

Getting into her apartment building was easy enough. Severus knocked on Gretchen's door and looked it over, still deciding what he’d do once she opened the door. He still was not completely sure when he heard the lock shift and turn.

“Mr Snape?” Gretchen asked as the shock forced the air out of her lungs.

“Indeed.”

“What on earth are you doing here? How did you find me?” she asked. Her disbelief was plain on her face.

Then he could tell that she had registered his size in comparison to hers, and she closed the door slightly.

Gretchen's voice took on a steel edge as she asked, “What do you want?”

Severus was comforted to know that she didn’t just swing the door open to unfamiliar men. She was at least aware of her surroundings.

“I’ve come for my necklace. I did say I might want it back one day.”

Gretchen’s hand immediately went to the chain around her neck, but she stared at him with her jaw flapping as if she had something to say.

“Look how you cling to possibility but never took the chance,” Severus sneered, pushing the door open and walking through. “Look at your life, Gretchen.” His eyes travelled around her flat. He had been there before, Apparating in when he knew her to be working. “How is your relationship with the telly going? Fulfilled, are we? Maybe if you wouldn’t work so much. You could probably afford all this,” he stopped his acidic speech to flick his wrist around the room, “without working at the bookshop, don’t you think?”

Severus looked down his nose at her, and she trembled like a first year.

“I like working at the bookshop.” Gretchen stuck out her chin.

It was a pale imitation of the indignant gesture Hermione would have made, but it was hers nonetheless.

Severus pushed on.

“I’m sure you find it quite the opportunity to people-watch,” Severus sniffed, holding her gaze for a long moment before chuckling darkly. “Or is it because you like to be watched?” he asked, advancing on her.

“I am quite sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gretchen leaned forward, not totally willing to let him invade her personal space.

_Good_ , he thought, _fight for it. There’s my girl._

Severus continued to stare at Gretchen's flat in disgust. It was a fine place, really, for a single Muggle who made a fair amount of money. It wasn't good enough for his wife though, and Severus was on a mission to make sure she never saw it again.

He snapped his head back to her and said, “On the contrary, I am quite certain that you do.”

Gretchen scowled at him.

“Does the name Harry Potter ring a bell?” He could tell by her face that it did.

A clever girl like Gretchen wouldn't forget precious details like that. It was, indeed very precious since Potter and Ronald Weasley had been the least inclined to go. It was too bittersweet for them.

“What does he have to do with my necklace?” Gretchen’s sharp mind got back to the point.

Severus smiled. She kept forcing the conversation back to the points that Severus benefited from the most.

“ _Your_ necklace? Dear girl, I assure you that he have _**everything**_ to do _my_ necklace.” Severus made sure to enunciate the word ‘everything’. She was obviously still the curious girl she’d always been, books lining every open surface, various newspapers strewn about, and piles of magazines tied up by the door.

He watched as her face flushed hot with impatience and humiliation.

“I am not a little girl, Mr Snape, and I wo-!”

“Not a little girl? _Not a little girl?_ How old are you then? Twenty-five? Thirty? When, may I inquire, is your birthday? Perhaps I’ll send a card.”

“May the fifteenth!” she shouted at him.

Severus smiled. He had poked through her records. That happened to be the date that she had been released from hospital. Moreover, she was starting to lose her cool, her frustration and anger over the whole situation getting the better of her as she fought to hold her ground against him. Tears were beginning to stream down her cheeks.

“My, Gretchen, feeling angry?” Severus asked with malicious delight.

Severus watched as she froze and took stock of herself. Then Gretchen looked at him, her face going wide with shock.

Ever quick to capitalise on a situation, Severus whipped out his handkerchief and firmly grabbed hold of her chin. As he gently dabbed the tears away from her face, he asked, “And if I told you that your birthday was the nineteenth of September nineteen seventy-nine, how would you feel?”

Gretchen was panting, and Severus could feel her hot breaths puff onto his wrist. She tried to reply but he was holding her mouth shut.

When she scowled at him, Severus whispered in his most soothing voice, “And if I told you that you were an only child of two dentists?”

Severus looked into her eyes and could see the fear and hope. Fear that he was a horrible man, as evil as he was ugly, one who would feed her lies and lead her astray. Hope that these things were true, that her parents lived, and that they had been wishing her happy birthday all these years.

She swallowed.

He loosened his hold of her chin and slid his hand down her neck to hold her shoulder gently. “There is so much more I could tell you; you’ve waited far too long to know. I cannot, however, tell you everything, and you will believe nothing if we stay here. That necklace is returning with me today, and if you are brave and wise, you will whisper that word that you’ve been thinking of for so long.”

Severus slowly pulled his hand away, his face blank as he pushed his handkerchief into her fist.

Gretchen nodded. They looked at each other for a long minute.

Finally, she began to whisper, but he stopped her. “I might be a moment behind you. Do not fear, the door is unlocked.” And then he smiled.

Gretchen closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she whispered, “P-portus?”

Severus watched as she got sucked through with the Portkey. Wasting no time, he turned to begin warding the apartment. He Vanished all of the food from the refrigerator. He unplugged all of the appliances. Then he sat down at her computer and secured it as well. This was a little trickier, trying to hack into her accounts, reset passwords, and set automated responses. Gretchen was about to be on permanent vacation.

Finishing up, he had to go to the bookshop as well. He had to get to her manager, Confund her, tell her that Gretchen had an important emergency to take care of, and make sure that her job remained intact.

Her day job would have to wait for tomorrow. And then, hopefully, for forever.

* * *

Gretchen landed in front of a quaint stone cottage in the shadow of a castle. She was trying her best not to wonder at how she’d got there, where ‘there’ was, and what was going on. What had happened to her? No, mustn’t think, because nothing made sense.  
With her hands clasped behind her head, Gretchen tried to get her brain to catch up with what was happening.

She had been surprised to hear a knock on her door on a Sunday. It was _her_ day; she would spend it at home by herself doing whatever chores around the house had to be done. No one ever came by. 

She was busy cleaning the floors when she heard the loud rapping at her door. Gretchen remembered appraising her flat as she walked through it, completely unaware that her life was about to change drastically once the door was opened.

Her hand immediately went to the chain around her neck, her heart beating in her chest.

Mister Snape.

Severus Snape.

Oh, _he_ knew how to push her buttons. She remembered how her blood had pounded as his voice drilled into her.

_Yes! Yes, she had been angry!_

Then, with her head spinning from this new thing, this new state of mind, Gretchen said the word.

And here she was.

"Just go inside," he’d said, "the door will be unlocked."

Gretchen tried the handle.

It was open.

She took a deep breath, and stepped forward. Inside, the home was beautiful but masculine. Things were clearly well kept, though it was obvious a young girl lived here. Along with the dark green leather chair and couch, there lay a small lavender sweater as well as a paddle brush and hair bands. 

“Hello? Is someone home?” 

There was a ticking of what sounded like several clocks, and as she looked around, she saw two by the door, almost identical. One read the time while the one next to it... well, it didn’t act like a clock at all. There were no numbers, but two arms. One that read ‘Rori’, and one that read ‘Daddy’. The longer one, Daddy’s, designated he was ‘on business’. Rori’s was set to ‘The Potters’. The face also read, ‘at school’, ‘at home’, ‘up to mischief’.

Turning away from the clocks, Gretchen called out again, but no one answered. She assumed she was alone and decided to sit down and wait on the couch. She was just about to make contact with it when she saw the pictures spread across the mantel. All but one were in silver frames, and there was something on a stand. Gretchen lurched forward to investigate and nearly toppled over the coffee table.

She began with the odd picture. It showed two boys and a girl; the girl looked just like her!

Everyone was laughing and waving. She’d seen digital picture frames like that before. They could hold a little bit of a movie if you wanted them to. That must be what this was. But the children were all so young, maybe twelve or thirteen.

_If this_ was _her, and that man said that she has been born in seventy-nine, that would mean this was taken in nineteen ninety-two or ninety-one. They didn’t have this kind of technology then._

Gretchen scowled.

Something was definitely going on around here. 

She continued to look at the other pictures. An older version of that girl standing in a white dress with Mr Snape, clearly on their wedding day. They didn’t look overjoyed, but there was a satisfied pride to the image. Then there was another picture of her with a rounded belly, shying away from the camera. Then another and another, until the last had her marooned on the green couch like a whale.

The last picture on the mantel was of an exhausted woman and a little baby. She would pull down the blanket and tilt its little face to the camera.

_Very sweet._

Was this her life? Is this what she had forgotten all about? Why would she ever want to leave this? 

Gretchen turned to the centre of the mantel, and looked at the plaque that rested by the stand.

“Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin, First Class, for Outstanding Magic and Assisting the Banishment of Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort.”

It looked as though no speck of dust had ever landed on it. That couldn’t be true though, nothing was impervious to dust.

Gretchen jumped when Snape cleared his throat by the door. “I see you’ve located the most obvious evidence, Gretchen.” 

She turned to the now relatively familiar man. “The first day we met, you said I looked just like your wife. You were right,” she hedged. She was fairly overwhelmed, and maybe not feeling ready for any more 'truths'.

“I have come to believe you _are_ my wife and that she’s locked inside your mind.”

“And how do you plan to get her out? Magic?” she snorted.

“Precisely.” 

Their eyes met, and he looked perfectly serious.

“I am surprised you haven’t touched it yet,” Severus noted, inclining his head to the stand where her wand was.

“What? That beautiful baton? Was this Hermione person some sort of conductor?"

He smirked. “Touch it, wrap your hand around it; I guarantee you that you won’t break it.”

Gretchen turned to face the wand and reached out her hand. She did not think this was a good idea, though she couldn’t pinpoint why, and she felt pretty stupid being afraid of a little carved stick. However, it was special enough to be displayed on a stand, so she couldn’t be too batty. 

Her fingers drew closer and closer, and the thing began to shake. The frames on the mantel also began to shake, and in the next moment, the glass began to crack on each one. Finally, when she was nearly there, the stick started to sizzle and smoke.

Gretchen watched. Nothing good could be coming from this. However, her fingers were drawing closer of their own volition. Although the stick continued to shake, and she was terrified, she couldn’t stop herself.

Then she felt the cool, smooth grip of Snape’s fingers around her wrist, pulling her away. Her skin quickly began to warm where he was touching her, though. He was standing close behind her.

“I may have to retract that guarantee,” he whispered as he spun her to face him.

“Wh- what happened?”

“ _You_ happened. You are a very powerful being.”

Gretchen was about to ask what that meant when Snape brandished a baton from his sleeve. The tip was a short distance away from her nose, but she couldn't look away.

“You are a witch. Your name is Hermione Snape. You are my wife. I am a wizard. _Lumos._ ”

Gretchen felt her eyes strain to adjust to the new light. They followed the point of brilliance, which he moved to shine between them.

“You fought the most horrible wizard of our time, defeating him with this… _unimaginable_ power, to save our daughter, and the world. That is what your mind is hiding from you.”

Gretchen felt as if her blood was rushing from her head to her feet and back again, colliding with all of this new information. The way her stomach roiled, she wondered if she was going to be sick, and a part of her brain tried to remember what she ate last.

“And you can, what? Cast a spell to get inside my mind? Pull out these memories? Forgive me if I’m a little sceptical.” 

Her words were harsh, but she couldn't keep from staring at the tip of his wand. It seemed that it was the only thing keeping her rooted in reality, if that's what this even was. 

“You don't believe me."

From what he'd said, Gretchen would think that he'd feel offended, at least. However, she finally seemed free to look at him again.

His crooked teeth showed from a predator's smile.

Gretchen's heart pounded faster as her blood ran cold. Warily, she shook her head just a bit.

His expression changed. Immediately it was a mask of gentle encouragement. "Perhaps you would like to try for yourself? _Nox_.” 

Gretchen was trying to figure out what 'nox' meant as her eyes dilated with the fading of the light. Her brain was so turned around that she didn't resist when he took her hand and led her to the couch. 

Snape waited until she met his eyes again. He nodded once and said, “Now, you need to put your fingers on my temples, look into my eyes, and say _Legilimens._ " 

It was her turn to nod, although hers was much more enthusiastic. Gretchen thought she must look daft, agreeing so enthusiastically to something she had no idea about. However, the day was only getting weirder. Ever the good student that she was at uni, she repeated back to him, “Touch your temples. Look into your eyes. Legitimise.” 

Snape’s lip curled. Gretchen thought she was about to get cast off of the face the planet.

The tone of his voice was clearly restrained when he said, “Do pay attention! This is my _mind_ you are moving into here. Not ‘legitimise’, Le-gil-i-mens! _**Legilimens!**_ ” 

Gretchen wondered what he was holding back but was thankful that he was anyway. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. After a moment, she turned back to him.

“'Legilimens' is not a word!” she huffed and scowled. 

“Neither is 'Portus', but look where it got you!” He ground his teeth, barely reining in his temper. “Do you wish to be the watcher or the watched on your first go?” 

She blanched. As broken as her brain was, Gretchen was quite fond of it and wasn’t quite sure she wanted him messing about with it.

“Point taken. 'Legilimens'.” She nodded, conceding the point. 

He exhaled, and leaned forward so she could touch him.

“You have beautiful eyes, by the way,” she said quietly, nearing the end of her tether. 

He muttered his thanks, blinking slowly before opening his eyes and nodding a little to let her know he was ready. 

“ _Legilimens_.”


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Posting this week's chapter early because I have a busy Sunday ahead <3 )

* * *

It had been almost ten years of having his mind to himself, so Severus did not relish having someone, especially an inexperienced, untrained witch, in his mind again. However, he felt this was necessary, and Severus was very familiar with doing what was necessary.

He played his memories for Gretchen as though they were a film. Many nights he'd lain awake thinking of what to show her, how she would react, and if Hermione would react as well. What would Hermione say to a film of their life as seen through his perspective? 

Was he getting soft in his old age to think that his wife would look back fondly with him at where they had started?

Dumbledore's office: the walls covered with portraits and the shelves covered in bizarre instruments. They were... _discussing_ the marriage law and how it would play out. His view of Hermione was obstructed by a high-backed chair. At the time, Severus had ignored her presence as much as he could, wanting to sort it out with the Headmaster on his own.

He remembered being furious. Suddenly, he wanted to watch it with Gretchen, see her seeing him, as if they were in a Pensieve.

He'd opted for the direct connection because he wanted to be able to direct her, something he couldn't do in a Pensieve. However, Severus did have one trick up his sleeve, something he'd practiced a bit with Albus many years ago. Since Gretchen was so open, so naïve, he cast the spell on her in return.

Suddenly, he was standing beside her. The connection fluttered a moment when Gretchen noticed him, she was so focused on what was happening around her. What she did next surprised him but pleased him immensely.

Gretchen turned to him as if it were normal to chat with the man whose mind you were looking into. "You look furious, and she - I - _she_ looks… not too put out."

Severus nodded and motioned for her to watch.

Memory-Severus began to shout, “I will not, absolutely _not,_ in the name of Merlin, Circe, Jesus, Apollo, or anyone-bloody-else marry _her!_ ”

Gretchen and the girl in the chair both flinched.

Severus smirked. He remembered being frightening, and their fear filled him with a pride.

Dumbledore sat and withstood the abuse. He was in fluorescent purple robes that seemed to flash as he sat there, looking back as if he were watching an amusing play.

Memory-Severus stormed on. “She is my student; she is a child! She has already done too much! I have too much else to do! Get Malfoy! Get Nott! I draw the line, thin as it may be, at being lent out like a stud horse, especially to someone who has barely started bleeding!” Memory-Severus stopped to pant and formulate his next invectives.

The older man cleared his throat, letting his steepled fingers drop down onto the table top. “This is what you told Tom?”

“Would I be here if I had, Albus?” Memory-Severus let his head drop into his hands and raked his fingers harshly through his hair.

Gretchen frowned and stared, waiting for the volley to come back. Beside her, Severus braced himself for the words that he'd heard too many times.

“The prophecy, my dear boy, the prophecy,” Albus said as if the answer were written out clearly.

“Which prophecy, you old coot? The one with which I killed her twenty bloody years ago, or would you like to make Miss Granger another sacrificial fucking lamb?”

Gretchen narrowed her eyes now.

Before the scene could continue, Severus moved on to a later point that night. For theatrical effect, he directed Gretchen's body to turn with his hand on her back. As if it mattered what their bodies did inside their imaginations.

Severus watched Gretchen as she got her first good look at Hermione. Gretchen had gone as pale as a ghost but was enthralled by the scene. She was staring at herself, ten years younger, standing in front of a door looking absolutely petrified.

He continued to watch Gretchen as memory-Severus's growl pierced the air. “I did not intend to wound your vanity, Miss Granger. Please do not take personal insult at my refusal of this farce.”

She was shaking like a leaf; her face was white. “I’ve uhm… come to appeal your decision, Professor Snape, Sir. I, uh… well, I think that it’s possi-.”

“Do _**shut up**_. I haven’t the time to rebut your stuttering argument. Let me put your mind at ease. Do you really want to shag me, Miss Granger, when one of the more appropriate boys your age will do?”

Gretchen turned to look between the man she’d known for all of a few minutes and this earlier, uglier version of himself. While Severus knew he'd never be a handsome man, there was something very ugly about his old life and his old self. He was hunched over his desk, his head dropped, which forced his nose even further to the fore. His hair was unwashed, stringy and greasy around his face, and his eyes like slits, all of their beauty masked.

Severus could tell by the look on her face that _Gretchen_ didn’t want to shag that man. She looked between the two of them again, as if to compare. She started to say something, but Severus jerked his head to the scene. She had to watch now; there would be time for questions later.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Hermione managed to squeak.

“Excuse me?" Memory-Severus chuckled cruelly. "I do not believe I just heard what you said. You wouldn’t _mind_?” His voice was low and malicious and when he pushed away from the desk and stalked towards the girl, Gretchen couldn’t help but follow. By the time she'd stopped, she was standing an arm's length away. Severus moved to stand behind her.

Memory-Severus immediately boxed in the young girl, who trembled like a scared mouse looking at the dripping jaws of a cat. He leaned further into her, impossibly close for someone who wasn’t touching her, and when his calloused finger did meet her jaw, she exhaled deeply, managing not to flinch too much. Her eyes, however, did stay closed.

“Tell me, are you a virgin? Did you let that puling Weasley into your knickers? Or Krum? Is that what makes you think you wouldn’t mind?” He kicked her feet apart and moved his feet to stand inside hers, and her knees trembled against his calves. “Or do you fancy me a misunderstood hero? A filthy puppy that just needs paper training and a good scrub?” His finger continued to stroke her jaw, even as she swallowed and brought her trembling hands up to the latch on her cloak.

Without speaking, she worked the clasp. Once it clicked open, she opened her eyes and looked at him, leaning into his body so that her cloak would fall smoothly to the floor. As it did, it revealed her body, bare but for knickers and boots.

They both stood, breathless, and stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, Hermione grabbed the wrist by her chin and moved his teasing fingers. She stroked his hand down her neck, pulling it past her breast and onto the swell of her hips. “I’m no child, and I’ll do _anything_ to defeat him.”

Seeing that moment again, living it again, Severus felt his heart swell for Hermione Granger. Her courage and determination were indomitable.

But they didn't have time to linger. He shifted the scene again, catching Gretchen as she moved to chase the pair as they faded away.

Gretchen scowled back at him until there was a new room. It was very similar to the living room their bodies sat in, but the walls were formed of great stones and there was an eerie green glow about the place. It was his sitting room at Hogwarts, and he was at the small dining table, eating toast.

Hermione walked into a doorway and hovered, a bundle of plastic clenched tight in her fist. She was silent except for the exaggerated breathing of someone who was deathly nervous about something.

Memory-Severus looked up from his tea and glared. “What the bloody fuck has been taking you so long in the toilet this morning? I have the staff meeting in twenty minutes.”

Hermione flinched at the dressing-down and opened her mouth to speak. She didn’t manage more than a squeak, though, because memory-Severus began to pay attention to her.

“Why are you still in your nightclothes? And what are you holding? Toothbrushes? What is this about?”

“S-S-Severus, uhm, I… I well… that is to say….” Hermione looked at the sticks in her hands to avoid having to look at him.

“Spit it out, or I’ll give you Veritaserum!” Memory-Severus pounded his fist on the table, flinching when Hermione jumped. Severus flinched as he watched, too. He was usually so careful with his temper; she hadn’t truly seen it since a few days after their marriage.

“I’m pregnant.”

Memory-Severus barely heard her. “What? Hurry up, woman, I haven’t got all day!”

Finally exasperated with the situation, she threw the three Muggle pregnancy tests at him, all hitting his chest and one bouncing off into his half eaten eggs as the others fell into his lap. “I’m pregnant!”

Having got the words out - and at an undeniable volume - Hermione pressed herself against the door. They hadn’t talked about the possibility of pregnancy, even though that was what the marriage law was supposed to promote. They had barely managed to have sex a handful of times, what with having to acquaint themselves with each other and everything else that came with a forced and unwanted marriage.

Memory-Severus leaned back in his chair.

She was pregnant.

He was going to be a father.

She was pregnant.

With a baby.

_His_ baby.

She could never divorce him if they had a baby.

They were tied together for life under Wizarding law.

Severus remembered thinking that maybe he would do the gentlemanly thing and die in the war. He shoved that thought aside; it wasn't serviceable.

Hermione cleared her throat and they all looked back at her.

Severus remembered it was like seeing her for the first time. She was so young, but so perfect. She would be an excellent mother; she’d been mothering her friends and the house-elves and anything that came within arm's reach of her. Even him, he’d realised.

She looked as if she was staring down the face of a dragon.

Memory-Severus looked down at the plastic wand sticking out of his breakfast. There were two pink lines on it.

“What are your thoughts about this?”

She swallowed audibly. “Excited... but terrified.” Her body peeled itself away from the doorway, and she looked less defensive and more curious. She swallowed again. “And you?”

Around him and Gretchen, Severus's remembered thoughts sounded:

That was the million Galleon question, wasn’t it?

He was going to be a father.

He would not be the last Snape.

It was as though the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. And then reality sank in again. They were at war, a war that had to be won. He had to win it for his child now and not because of the loss of a woman who’d never really been his. It changed everything. It made it so much better, and so much worse.

Gretchen and Hermione watched memory-Severus staring at his plate. It took a long time for him to answer.

Finally, Hermione lost patience. “Severus?”

Pulled once again to the fore, he tossed his linen napkin onto the table, mindless of the two pregnancy tests falling to the floor as he rose.

He walked to her, his gaze now burning with more than a reluctant lust. She was the mother of his child. She had given him the greatest gift. Severus approached her like a supplicant, sliding his hands under her jaw and bringing his nose close to hers. “You’ve changed everything. I vow to keep you and our baby safe, no matter the cost.”

Their lips met, and he kissed her. He saw her, now, as an oasis, and he’d been trapped in the desert.

Gretchen watched with rapt attention.

Severus flinched. He hadn't meant to show her the kiss, but he'd gotten wrapped up in the moment. When the scene began to fade away, Gretchen tried to run into it again, but Severus pushed her out of his mind as if she was nothing.

Coming to himself, he found her panting with her fingers still pressing into his temples as they sat on his sofa.

She didn’t move. She just stared at the eyes that had shown her something beyond her wildest imagination. Severus moved Gretchen’s hands gently away from his face, resting them in her lap.

"That was...?" Gretchen asked although she was unsure, exactly, what it was.

"That was the beginning. It is the tip of the iceberg." Severus turned away from her, rolling his head around his shoulders. He summoned tea, sandwiches and iced water, which all appeared on the table in front of the sofa.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked, watching her skin flush and fade. She even became a little green around the gills.

"Things... happen... when I--"

"Accidental magic. You shouldn't stifle it. Let it out." His tone was encouraging, but dry.

"It'll go away," she whispered.

"Well... the impertinence remains," Severus said, mostly to himself. He then conjured a pillow and floated it over her head. "I would prefer it if you intentionally destroyed something rather than obliterating items at random, if you please."

Gretchen looked up at the pillow hovering over her.

Severus could see the signs of anger and irritation on her face.

The pillow exploded into a shower of feathers and silk, raining down over them. Gretchen covered her eyes again.

"Sit up. Eat. Drink. You'll feel better," Severus instructed before taking a hearty bite from one of the sandwiches.

"Sod off."

"Language. There is a child in this house."

"Right now?" Gretchen sat up, looking around for a child that might just be hers.

"No," Severus ground out, his patience waning. It hadn't been unpleasant having her in his mind, but he'd rather that he never had to do it again. "Since you are still something of an unknown variable, I won't let you meet my daughter until I know it is safe."

"I like children well enough." Gretchen shrugged and reached for a cup of tea.

Severus was sure that 'well enough' for Gretchen meant the same absolute neutrality she had for adults. She would be non-committal, polite, _pleasant_ even.

Rori would tear her apart. He smiled at the thought. A torn-apart Gretchen, if dissected correctly, should yield a whole, reinvigorated Hermione.

"Tomorrow, then. But I must warn you," Severus paused to turn Gretchen's face towards his by pinching her chin between his fingers. "If you do any permanent damage to my daughter, I will torture you in ways you could never imagine. I was once a very bad man, Gretchen."

She was looking at him, not breathing.

Then he smiled at her, and the moment evaporated. "Look at that. Fear as well. Aren't you the over-achiever? Two new emotions in one day." Severus picked up a sandwich and chewed efficiently.

It took a moment for Gretchen to pick up what was happening, and then she too smiled. She reached for a sandwich, lost in her thoughts. It was a good sandwich too, just the right proportion of meat and cheese, with a little tomato and a delightful mustard.

"If you'd like to join us now, I think we're ready."

Gretchen looked at Severus completely unaware what was going on. Then, a clamouring came from the stairs, and two men appeared on the other side of the coffee table.

She knew one, and she smiled, whispering, "Harry Potter?"

Severus tried not to roll his eyes.

Potter nodded excitedly, as though it was his birthday and he was expecting a big surprise. Both he and Weasley were practically bouncing out from their shoes. Gretchen stood and turned towards Weasley. "And you are?"

"Ronald Weasley." He smiled.

Severus thought he was just barely keeping himself from knocking over the table and taking her up into his arms.

"Ronald Weasley." Gretchen was nodding, but nothing was registering

Severus watched Weasley pull a face and say, "Oi, don't say it like that. Pretend I've done something ridiculous, like... put a book back in the wrong spot."

"What?"

"Come on, just do it for us?"

"But, why?"

"For me, please? I've gone a million years without hearing it."

"Really, Weasley, this is the first conversation you want to have with her? She has no idea what you're talking about," Severus added.

"Sod off, Snape. I've waited longer than all of you have to talk to her, and I want to hear it."

"No." Gretchen scowled at him.

"Yes." Ron replied, a handsome smile forming under his nose.

"No." Gretchen gritted her teeth.

Severus forced himself to stay still.

"Please?"

"No." She was starting to lose her patience.

"Just really quickly."

"No."

"It won't take a minute."

"I said, 'no'."

"C'mon, 'Mione!"

"Ronald Weasley, I will _not_ do your homework for you, just because you and Harry spent the whole weekend on your brooms!"

Severus stood and stared. He must have been practicing nagging all week to get this sort of a response.

Before Severus could think on it, Ron _had_ knocked over the table to sweep her into his arms. Tears were streaming down his face as he clung to her.

"Well, that was enlightening," Severus said as he righted the room with a wave of his wand.

"What was?" Gretchen asked, awkwardly returning Weasley's hug.

He sniffled and pulled back. "What you just said."

"I said... 'I said "no".'?"

"Then you said something after that." Weasley swiped the tears from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Then he had his hands on her shoulders, and he searched over her face.

Gretchen flinched.

Severus shook his head. "Weasley, if you'd been this insightful at school, you might have got a few more NEWTs." He moved towards the door.

Gretchen looked at them, her eyes finally landing on a very disappointed-looking Harry Potter. "Tell me. What did I say?"

Before Potter could answer, Severus raised his hand and said. "You've done quite enough for one day, Gretchen. I'll tell you tomorrow. For now, I think, perhaps some rest."

Harry spoke up, saying, "But the Pensieve?"

"Tomorrow. We can't do too much too soon, or it will all be for naught." Severus opened the door.

The two men moved towards it, waving shyly at Gretchen. She waved back and watched as Severus closed the door behind them. She was, indeed, looking very tired.

"Come, I'll show you to your bed."

They passed a closed door on either side of the hallway, and then Severus led her into a room that was clearly the master bedroom. The furnishings were all in rich, deep-coloured woods, with the stark white linens highlighting dark drapes. There was a sitting area with several shelves full of books. The only thing out of place in the room was that instead of one large bed, there were two beds, slightly larger than twin-sized.

Gretchen opened her mouth, but Severus seemed already to know her question.

He spoke quietly, saying, "The second time we met, you said you'd started dreaming. I believe this is because the first time we met, I used Legilimency on you to look inside your mind. I believe it... shook things up. We've done a lot more shaking today, Gretchen, and I need to be available to help you when you dream. At that same second meeting, I asked you if you would still want to know, even if your old life had been the stuff of nightmares. Let me assure you, some of it very much was. I don't want you to be alone should you remember something... unpleasant. Furthermore, this is the room Rori expects me to be in late at night. If she were to have a nightmare of her own, and I were in a different room, she might not remember and not finding me here would cause her further distress. This is the best solution."

By the end of his speech, Severus was standing directly in front of her, looking at her earnestly. His expression seemed to halt any further questions, and Gretchen toed off her shoes and looked between the beds. Severus gestured to the one closer to the reading area and she moved to it, pulling back the sheets and climbing in fully dressed.

"Sweet dreams, Gretchen." Severus nodded and moved to his sitting area, knowing that the potion-infused pillowcase would put her to sleep almost immediately. By the time he'd opened his book, the delicate snore he'd been dreaming of for many years was issuing from the bed a few feet away.

***

Gretchen was moaning and writhing in her bed.

Ever the light sleeper, especially when he was guarding something or someone, Severus woke immediately and wrapped his hand around his wand in its place under his pillow. He was prepared for anything.

Or so he thought. He was quite surprised when she giggled.

It made him remember the first time he’d heard her giggle. It was right after she’d told him about the pregnancy. He had spent the whole day concocting ways to congratulate and thank her spry little body for accepting his seed. Severus remembered how he’d mercilessly tickled her feet, making her giggle until she couldn’t take anymore. From there his intent had turned… lascivious.

She had squirmed and wiggled, naked on their bed. He had licked and sucked and kissed her until she cried out, “Severus!”

He barely resisted the urge to jump out of bed, but Severus remembered that that was then, and this was now. Besides, it looked as though Gretchen was still dreaming, her body calming back into the blankets after her body tossed and turned a few more times.

How many times had he heard that voice calling to him in his dreams? He had told no one, but he had dreamt of Hermione long before he met Gretchen at the book shop. The day after she’d disappeared, the dreams had begun, and always she called for him. Sometimes her voice was terrified, sometimes it was seductive, sometimes it was just the voice that called for him as she set her things by the door and took off her outer robes.

Now he could say that she did the same in her dreams as well. Were they dreams, though? Was Gretchen’s consciousness level low enough that Hermione could come out? Was Hermione trapped in Gretchen, desperate for his aid?

Severus’s thoughts were stopped by her gentle snores once again. He rolled over, and turned away from the woman who was and was not his wife. He’d had many terrible heartbroken nights as well, most notably when Rori did something so like her mother, the indomitable spirit she’d never had the opportunity to know.

He sighed in a way that didn’t seem like a sigh at all; to anyone besides his wife, it would simply be a breath. Severus focused on the plan because the plan was what was going to make this work. Tomorrow, Rori would come home for lunch, and then they’d see each other. He would minimize the child in front of Gretchen and make her appear to be less of a threat, but he would prompt Rori to draw Gretchen in, and then they would go in for the kill. Well, for the resurrection, actually.

Rori would be attending Hogwarts in a few months, and Severus hoped that by then, Hermione would be back, and Rori would have a whole family. Tomorrow would come faster if he slept, though, so Severus forced his eyes to still beneath his eyelids. He began drawing deep breaths, and soon enough, he was back to the stable doze that had fuelled his work for many years.

* * *


	6. Chapter 5

Gretchen woke up more rested than she could ever remember feeling. She stretched and turned and realised she must be late for work. Sitting up straight, she realized she wasn’t in her flat. Refusing to panic, she took a deep breath and began recalling the events of the previous day.

She fell back into the comfort of her pillows. She was a witch, a _real_ witch, her name was Hermione Granger, and she had helped end the life of what was presumably the worst being the world would ever see.

What’s more, she was sleeping in the house of a man, a wizard, a _real_ wizard, who claimed to be her husband, who had shown her bits of her life from inside _his own mind_. He said they have a daughter. And there was Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

What of her parents? Would she meet them, too? Did she want to? What if they wanted to ask her questions? What would she tell them? What if it was all a big misunderstanding and this wasn’t real?

The bedroom door flew open, barely avoiding banging against the wall when Severus caught the knob. He was barefoot, wearing a thin black t-shirt and very faded black denims. His hair was still wet, it seemed, from the shower.

His nose was all bone and hooking cartilage, and his jawline jutted forward, as did his shoulders, and presumably his hips. Gretchen caught herself as her eyes pushed to find out if that ‘presumably’ was, in fact, fact.

Oh! She’d been checking him out! And he’d been watching her every glance.

Severus stood very straight, and said, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to leave you alone with your thoughts for even a minute. Breakfast is ready.”

He said it with such smug satisfaction Gretchen could just imagine what his mind was doing, thinking about her in that bed staring at him as if he was the last ice cube on a hot day. She could just imagine him ‘accidentally’ brushing against her, or… oh, she remembered in the book store on that very first day, helping her to reach that book. She could imagine him pressing his body against hers, backing her against the shelves.

“Are you attracted to me, Gretchen? I don’t know if that counts as an actual _emotion,_ but we’ll count it for now.”

Severus flicked his wand at the wardrobe, and the doors swung open, revealing all her clothes.

“The bathroom is through that door. Be quick; the boys will be here at half past.”

And then he was gone. His teasing, smirking face and his damned glinting eyes were gone. Gretchen wandered to the bathroom.

Her mind went blank and she sighed, feeling the spray of the shower come on. She’d been enjoying the ideas she’d had been having before Severus interrupted. Gretchen tried to regain her line of thinking, but… _nothing_ came. She slapped the shower wall, and swore quietly. Once again, she was so close to a ‘what would happen if…’ scenario; and she’d failed. Again.

It was one of the things they tested for when she was in hospital: her ability to imagine, to make something up. Or rather, her _in_ ability. Feeling discouraged, Gretchen brusquely cleaned herself up, realising she was hungry. That, at least, was something she could prove she felt.

She moped down the stairs, past the living room and into the kitchen, numbly following her nose to breakfast. Gretchen hardly even noticed the two places that had been set at the table, and how one had a plate full of eggs and charred potatoes while the other had some toast and kippers. Instinctively she reached for the toast as she sat.

Severus, who had been leaning on the counter and watching her, pushed away and sat in the other chair at the table.

Gretchen watched as he ate efficiently, almost mechanically, without looking at her. As she picked up her second slice of toast, she began to feel as though she’d done something wrong.

Once his plate was clean, Severus leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Then he turned his gaze upon her.

Gretchen froze, her bite of kippers on toast squishing impossibly loudly in her mouth.

Words began flowing from his lips, quiet enough that she had to strain to hear.

“I must admit, Gretchen, that I am of several minds as to how to proceed. On the one hand, my wife is sitting across from me, eating kippers on toast as she did many times in our short union, and I can’t help but believe that you are her. I want to… have intercourse with her: intellectual, emotional, and sexual alike. However, I know that you are not her, you have no idea about her, and just because you look like her and act like her, I can’t expect you to just _become_ her overnight.”

He took a deep breath.

“Or ever.”

Gretchen swallowed. “You don’t think it will work?” She couldn’t believe her ears. This couldn’t fail, it just couldn’t. Sure, she had been moping and uncertain, but he couldn’t be uncertain. She needed his certainty.

“I think that it is highly probable that great strides can be made. However, since this is the first time in recent memory anything of this sort has happened, it’s impossible to say.”

She reached for her cup, any excuse to turn away from his penetrating stare.

“Aurora thinks that she can… _fix_ you. She is a very clever girl, but you know children--they never see the full picture. She will be exuberant that you are here, possibly too much so. Do you think you can manage her without being patronising? She hates being patronised.”

Gretchen took a slow, deep breath and nodded, flinching painfully when the door-knocker sounded. She had little time to prepare herself for the tiny voice that called out, “Daddy?” Then she was coughing: she was choking on the last bite of her toast.

With no apparent concern for Gretchen’s state, Severus hurried into the living room. Soon enough, her coughing fit ended, and she was bent over the table trying to catch her breath.

A cold, damp cloth was pressed into her hand, and she quietly said thanks before wiping off her face. When she pulled it away, her head was already turned, angled to look Severus in the eye. She was quite surprised when he wasn’t there. She dropped her gaze and came face to face with a little girl.

She had long hair falling past her shoulders. It looked like silky soft curls that were such a dark brown, they were almost black. She had Snape’s skin, but a smattering of freckles across her nose. Gretchen noticed the shape of her nose and upper lip and became mesmerised by them.

“What’d you say?” the girl asked, confused.

“Oh, nothing. Thank you. Uhm… for the cloth.” Gretchen shook the loose fist that held the cloth in her hand gently and looked between her hand and the girl.

The girl’s face contorted in confusion, but she remembered herself. She smiled and stuck out her hand. Then she said, “Aurora Snape.”

Gretchen shook her hand, having to first transfer the wet cloth to her other hand in order to do so. She was just about to introduce herself, when another new voice came from the doorway.

“Remarkable.”

Gretchen whipped her head around. She regretted it immediately, feeling a twinge in her neck. In the doorway stood an impossibly old man and Severus, who looked very put out. The old man was smiling at her.

“I know you.” Gretchen turned and stepped toward the old man. Her heart was beating in her chest. It was like chasing a dream in those last few moments before waking, but he didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

His blue eyes sparked behind half-moon glasses. “Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster these many, many long years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

The way he looked her over, soaking her in, made Gretchen feel like she was on display. His utter fascination with her was so flattering. But she was as fascinated by him and came closer and closer to him.

“And meddlesome coot.”

Severus’s voice cut in, but it didn’t pull her away from Albus. Gretchen stepped closer and closer, feeling almost as if she were being compelled to do so. Those blue eyes held something, _something big_ , but she just didn’t know what. She needed a closer look.

The next thing she knew, Gretchen was lost in those blue eyes, diving deeper and deeper with every breath.

* * *

* * *

Determining that Gretchen was thoroughly entranced by Albus, Severus moved to check on Rori. He and Potter had agreed that she would come home at lunch, after Gretchen had viewed the Pensieve memories and talked with Potter and Weasley.

As ever, Albus had his own agenda, and now Severus was not ready.

“Dad, she said something before you came in, I swear,” Rori whispered.

“Tell me.”

“Well, I handed her the cloth, and she wiped her face. Then she looked up, but I’m not that tall, so she looked down. And then she gasped and said, ‘Oh, you’re so beautiful. You look just like your father and my father.’ And then she hugged me. See, the back of my shirt is wet from the cloth, Dad.” Rori’s voice cracked a little, but she pushed through it, hurrying to tell him everything.

Severus looked around Rori’s back, and there was in fact, a moist patch on her shirt under her left shoulder blade. “Then, it was as if nothing happened,” he prompted. Severus hated seeing the small flinches in her face. It was so close to the ideal reunion, dangled and withdrawn. Seeing Rori struggle made his heart wrench.

Rori nodded, her face smoothing into a mask like her father’s. “The Janus. There is Gretchen and there is Mum, and they are separate, and we have to weave them together. Documented examples include Nepal in three hundred and fifty-six, Morocco in eight-o-eight, and Denmark, thirteen-ten.” She nodded to herself.

Severus knew she was taking comfort in the knowledge they had been digging up all her life. “Very good,” he said and winked at her. He swept his hand over her back to dry the spot, and frowned down at her when the spot remained, in fact lightening significantly. If he looked carefully, he could almost see the outline of two arms forming.

As he watched the fabric change, he put the pieces together immediately. He had taught her a spell a while ago that kept an impression on material. They had been studying how light and shadow work, and they had done impressions of objects on paper.

Rori looked at the floor guiltily with her chin stuck out--completely impertinent. She wasn’t going to apologise for ruining her blouse, he could tell.

Could he really blame her? Who wouldn’t want a souvenir from the moment they finally met their mother?

“We’ll get you a larger memory chest when we go into Diagon Alley.”

Rori sent him a beaming smile, relieved that she wouldn’t be punished, and thrilled that she would get to pick out a new piece of furniture for her room. Severus was very particular about the items she brought into the house; anything new would activate a ward and alert him.

Severus didn’t care that Rori thought it was annoying. Constant vigilance had to be maintained.

He turned Rori to look at Gretchen and Albus, pushing his fingers slightly into Rori’s hair while her hand gripped the back of his thigh. Like Severus had been, she was tall for her age and lithe – they looked almost like two reeds bending towards each other.

Albus was standing, smiling softly as he interviewed Gretchen. Severus recognized that this was actually his first foray into her thoughts. A master Legilimens like Albus didn’t need to secure his subject and keep them from moving. Most people who were in engaging conversations – especially ones where they were asked about themselves – willingly opened their gaze directly to the other person in the conversation.

Severus whispered down to Rori, “Invite Gretchen up to your room, per our original plan.”

She nodded seriously and moved to the doorway, tugging gently on the bell of Albus’ sleeve. “Can I show Gretchen my room now, Papa Albus?”

Severus’s teeth clenched on his tongue. Oh, she was laying it on thick! His little girl had Albus Dumbledore wrapped around her finger, and if he knew it, Albus loved every minute of it.

“If that is what she wants?” Albus passed the invitation to Gretchen, who nodded her acceptance.

It looked as if Gretchen was coming out of a dream. She looked down as Rori grabbed her hand before dragging her through the sitting room and up the stairs.

Albus looked at Severus, smiling and moving toward the kitchen table, taking up Gretchen’s vacated chair. Severus brought over the teapot and poured tea for the both of them.

“Severus, I am most pleased.”

Warding the kitchen immediately, Severus worked to keep his ire down. “If you could please be so kind as to not raise Rori’s hopes, Albus! This is a very tenuous affair!”

Looking into his tea, Albus tried to look chastised, but Severus was not convinced. He sat stiffly in his chair and sighed. “What did you see?”

“If Gretchen were a boat, Hermione would have the ear of the captain and the crew. She has been working very hard for a long time to get Gretchen into your grasp.”

“You can’t be saying she is cognizant of what is happening. It is totally implausible.” Severus had done his research, and the likelihood of Hermione coming back to them completely as her former self, an eighteen year old mother and all of the other things Hermione would have been was as likely as a Norwegian Ridgeback flying out of his arse. This endeavour would require both patience and perseverance. 

Albus nodded. “What I am saying is that in the way someone who wants to go to the sea might decorate their house with seashells and such, Hermione has been encouraging Gretchen at a very deep subconscious level. As time has passed, Gretchen has been orbiting closer and closer to Hermione’s life, such as her bookshop.”

Severus could believe that, at least. 

“Will Potter and Weasley be joining us today?”

“Yes, I suspect after lunch. Harry said that Rori had a hard time sleeping last night, and they both ended up on the sofa in front of the telly all night.”

Severus nodded. He didn’t have a television in the house; the magic surrounding Hogwarts blocked all the signals. He wouldn’t have had one anyway, but it was a good reason to give Rori when she took up the never ending crusade to buy one. Potter had one, and Hermione’s parents had one, so it was a special treat for her to watch when she visited.

Picking up his tea, he pushed away from the table. “Shall we watch the ladies from my study?” Severus moved to the hallway off the kitchen, not bothering to see if Albus was following. In there, he had a large enchanted mirror that showed Rori’s room. He could work for hours and watch her while giving her space to feel comfortable and independent. In the event of an emergency, he could also use that mirror to travel directly between the two rooms.

Once both men were settled on the sofa, they sat back to watch the happenings upstairs.

* * *

* * *

Gretchen was sitting on the floor, at the foot of a twin bed. The footboard looked like a knotted and gnarled old tree stump, and the headboard like the tree it grew, the branches and leaves pushing up and across the ceiling. It was a ‘fairly complicated enchantment,’ or so Rori said.

The floor was covered in a soft, thick moss which was very comfortable to sit on, and Gretchen was avidly watching Rori flit about the room, showing her mementos from all of the travels she’d gone on with her father.

“–And when we were in Spain, I got to see an old bladesmith, who would enchant the hilts to do special things, like be lighter or stronger. He gave me this dagger because he was so honoured that my father would go to him for information,” Rori said, as she walked across the room.

She passed Gretchen a bundle of cloth. Unrolling it, Gretchen found a beautifully crafted, very sharp looking weapon. “Your father lets you keep this? You could really hurt yourself!” Gretchen looked at the shining blade and the inlaid handle. It was beautiful, with sirens carved into it from the tip to the pommel. There was even a brass guard, just big enough to cover a woman’s hand.

Rori shrugged. “My father has taught me how to use blades. He says fear and ignorance are dangerous, and knowledge and respect are our best weapons.”

“What do you mean, ‘taught you how to use blades’?” Gretchen asked suspiciously. Was it or was it not the year 2008?

Relieving Gretchen of the dagger and wrapping it carefully, Rori said, “I help him brew sometimes. And he said that there will always be men who will want to harm me because I’m a girl, and wizards and witches who want to harm me because I am a Snape, or because I’m the daughter of Hermione Granger. I need to know how to protect myself.”

Gretchen was dumbstruck. She had never met a child like Rori before. She was so serious, so like her father one minute, and then so carefree the next, leaving things strewn about her room when her attention found a new focus.

Rori was watching her, and it set Gretchen on edge. However, there was something so comfortable for Gretchen in this place that she watched Rori in return. Emotions passed over her face, and she thought she saw a flicker of pride.

“What are you looking at?” Gretchen whispered.

“You look like the pictures of my mum when she was holding me as a baby.”

The two stared at each other another moment, and then Rori shrugged and began picking up her room.

“Why is it so important, you being a Snape?” Gretchen asked. She didn’t want the conversation to diminish into tense silence.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Rori asked, snorting like her father.

Gretchen frowned, and Rori must have realised she sounded like a snot, because she hurried to continue. “Sorry, I forget about the Statute of Secrecy, and that all you know about magic is what you’ve seen in the last day.”

Grabbing a pillow from her bed, Rori flopped down on the floor in front of Gretchen.

“A long time ago, there was a horrible wizard, named Voldemort. Well, his name was Tom Riddle really, but he wanted to be great, so he changed his name. And he thought that only wizards and witches who had magical parents were any good, so witches like my mum – and my dad really – were rubbish to him.

“He had lots of followers, and they were going to have a war. Then, Papa Albus heard a prophecy that said that there was a baby who would be his equal, and neither could live while the other one lived. Voldemort knew that my Uncle Harry’s parents had a baby, because my dad told him so. My dad was in love with Harry’s mum, and he thought that he could save her by telling Voldemort about the prophecy.

“So Voldemort went to Uncle Harry’s house and tried to kill him, but his mum – her name was Lily – stopped him with her love as his mum, which is a special kind of magic. Oh, and there’s this curse that you can cast that kills someone right there on the spot, which Voldemort used all the time. Anyway, Voldemort cast the spell on Uncle Harry, who was just a baby then, and he didn’t die! Can you believe it?”

Gretchen, who had been entranced by the story all along, shook her head, her wide eyes never leaving Rori’s face.

“So when Uncle Harry didn’t die, something happened to Voldemort, and he went away. Lots of people thought he was gone forever, but not my dad or Papa Albus.

“Then, when Uncle Harry got to Hogwarts, Voldemort kept coming for him, because they were both getting stronger. My mum and my Uncle Ron helped Uncle Harry the whole time. They went on lots of stupid errands trying to figure everything out instead of just asking questions and thinking things through, but they were all Gryffindors, and Gryffindors are foolish.

“Anyway, the summer before their seventh year, Voldemort heard _another_ prophecy which said that one of his loyal followers would have a baby with one of Uncle Harry’s loyal followers, and whoever had the baby on the last night before its first birthday would win the second war. Voldemort trusted and picked my dad, and since he was a spy for Papa Albus, he had to do it.

“And of course my mum was the most loyal of Uncle Harry’s followers, since she followed him all over the place getting in trouble and fighting Voldemort anyway. Well, except for maybe Uncle Ron, but two boys can’t have a baby, so it had to be my mum. So they got married.

“Then, Voldemort came to take me away because he wanted to win the war, but my mum stopped him to protect me. She knocked him down so Uncle Harry could take him out, which he did. Then, she burst into light. ”

“How?” Gretchen asked, leaning forward.

"How did she burst into light? I don't know," Rori said, rolling onto her back and staring at her ceiling. She waved her hand at the leaves hanging overhead, and they watched as they quivered as if there was a breeze in the room.

"Right," Gretchen said and sighed. Of course she didn't know; she was just a little girl. She was an astonishing, clever girl, but just a child nonetheless.

"Well, Papa Albus said she sublimated. Do you know what that means?" 

"Of course I do. Who wouldn't?"

Rori giggled. "My Uncle Ron! It was so funny, the look on his face when I said it for the first time. He gaped like a fish."

"I can imagine. I met him yesterday. He seemed...," Gretchen trailed off. She couldn't say ‘unnecessarily tedious and possibly over-emotional.’ That wouldn't do.

"He's sharp as a whip, in his way. He's just not bookish like us."

Not wanting to cause an argument about Ron, Gretchen redirected the conversation. "So, sublimation means that a solid has turned to gas or a gas to a solid without being liquid at all. How does a person sublimate?" She stretched out next to Rori and looked up at the leaves on the ceiling. They were rustling softly still, and she marvelled at them.

"Well, not a Muggle person, unless they were incinerated or something. That would be gross."

"Muggle?"

"Someone who doesn't have magic, like my Nana Carol and Grandpa Jack. There's nothing wrong with not having magic, they do lots of wonderful things anyway. Like my Grandpa Jack can make, like, a hundred different kinds of paper air planes that sail through the air without magic. They do turns and things. Nana landscapes gardens for people at the weekends, and she turns their little tiny plots of grass into these amazing rooms. That's where I got the idea for the tree bed."

Gretchen nodded. Hermione's parents sounded like wonderful people. If she was Hermione, then they were _her_ parents. What would they have been like as parents? What was she like? The frustration of not knowing boiled up in her. Above them, the leaves started to wave again.

"You're magic," Rori announced, just before pushing Gretchen's arm away from her side so she could lie against her, although now she was on her belly. "You activated the spell for my tree without even knowing it. My dad says you are going to do lots of accidental magic while you’re here."

"Is that so?" Gretchen sighed and closed her eyes. _God, this was weird._

"It's okay; everyone does accidental magic for a while. I do it a lot."

A moment of silence began to draw out, and Gretchen felt like she would be more than happy to just curl up on the soft mossy floor and be transported back through the rabbit hole or whatever she'd fallen down to be trapped in this bizarre dream. She turned to rub her cheek on the floor, still not quite believing it.

"If you ladies would like to rest there are plenty of beds on which you can nap."

On the floor, Gretchen and Rori turned to find Severus standing in the doorway staring back at them. Gretchen thought he was frowning disapprovingly, but a quick look at Rori showed that she was unfazed.

Severus moved into the room and said, "However, Albus would like to chat with you more in private, Gretchen. He's waiting for you in the sitting room."

Gretchen nodded and got up muttering her excuses as she went out the door.

* * *

* * *

Once Gretchen’s footsteps hit the stairs, Severus entered Rori’s room and closed the door behind him.

"I see you've changed clothes. Did she notice?"

Rori shook her head, creeping toward Gretchen's vacated spot on the floor.

Severus joined her on the floor and pulled her next to him so she was fully in Gretchen's imprint on the moss. He stretched out on his back and flicked his wand; honeysuckle vines bloomed in the leaves and the sweet smell permeated the room. "I'm very proud of you, Rori. This is very challenging and you have handled it better than anyone could have hoped."

He felt her head slide against his chest when Rori nodded, and then the warm wetness of a few tears soaked his shirt. Severus rubbed her back and continued to speak, making his voice as deep and rhythmic as he could. "It is very difficult; she looks just like the pictures. Sitting across from her at breakfast this morning was like living a dream. I am certain, however, that in a few days' time it will be a seamless shift into having a third person in the house. We just have to be patient with her."

"Patience pays," Rori whispered, her voice cracking. Then she started crying in earnest.

Severus didn't whisper any words of comfort, but he did pull Rori so she lay on his chest. His arms wrapped around her as she clung to him, weeping, her little body shaking as she expelled all of her pent up emotions. She'd been holding them in since her birthday, knowing that this would be the year that they got her back. Her excitement and anxiety had been compounding over the last few days. He was astonished that she hadn't started breaking mirrors and windows with all of the high strung energy that radiated from her.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Rori finished. Sniffling, she finally worked up the courage to ask, "How long until Mum is back?"

"I can't answer that question, Rori."

She sighed and pushed herself up so she could look down at him. "I know."

"I think you should try to rest before lunch. Albus said you were up all night with Potter."

Rori nodded. "Rotted our brains clear away, Father." She moved around the stump and slid across the mattress.

"Not much of a challenge for Potter." Severus leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He watched her nestle into her bed and nodded before turning and walking out the door.

In the sitting room, Gretchen was reclining with a cold compress on her forehead and holding a cup of tea on her belly. Albus sat in a nearby chair, his fingers steepled. He looked as though he was seriously contemplating the teapot.

Severus sat in the chair on the opposite side of the table from Albus and poured himself a cup of tea. They sipped in silence for a great while.

Finally, over half an hour after he'd sat down, Severus got an answer.

Albus spoke softly, still distracted by the puzzle. "I found a lead. Hermione, as we knew her, is lost behind that magic that weakened Tom Riddle. She is safe and sound, I believe, but the magic is dividing her from Gretchen as though they are on opposite sides of a wall."

Severus nodded.

"Events of high emotional value, such as Mr Weasley's nagging yesterday – I heard the report – or Rori's appearance this morning, seemed to have flattened that wall enough that Hermione could come out, but then the wall immediately solidifies. Gretchen has no recollection of the event.”

Severus looked at her, wary of how Albus spoke.

"She's asleep. I attempted to remove the tea cup from her hands but she was holding it too tightly and I didn't want to wake her.

“I was also able to detect very minute fissures in the barrier, possibly from previous attempts of Legilimency. You said that at your second meeting with Gretchen, she reported dreaming for the first time?”

“Correct,” Severus replied quietly and took the final sip of his tea. "The solution then is to teach Gretchen to control the magic. As she incorporates it into her being, Hermione will eventually be exposed."

"I agree. Has she attempted to hold her wand?"

"Yes, with violent reaction before she even got her fingers to it."

"A trip to Ollivander's, then. After lunch."

"Albus, the Pensieve." Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to keep from whining.

"It can wait. Ollivander, I believe, cannot."

So many careful plans, so many strategies developed in the preceding years, up in smoke. Severus scowled; that was the price to pay for involving Albus. The man loved to be a hair’s breadth from ruin, it seemed.

However as the idea sank in, it seemed to have merit. Better to have the base of the situation managed before adding any more. Finally Severus nodded, and stood to begin preparations for lunch.


	7. Chapter 6

After a pleasant lunch where Rori traded notes with Albus on all the places she'd seen in Japan, the four of them got ready to go to Diagon Alley.

Albus was already wearing his wizard's robes, so he did not have to change. Rori ran up to her room and came back down in pale blue robes. Severus came down next wearing black, the fabric moving fluidly in time with his stride. Over his arm was a set of robes in navy blue and Gretchen's trainers.

"Rori, help Gretchen with these, please."

After setting the shoes on the floor, he passed the garment to Gretchen, who just stared at him numbly. Two small hands on her bum pushed her towards the stairs, and she came out of her fog, marching up the stairs to Rori's room. When the door clicked shut behind them, Rori was almost bursting with excitement.

"Hurry! Diagon Alley is so amazing, you won't believe it!"

Spreading out the robes in front of her, Gretchen looked at them. They were basically a tent with sleeves. How... unflattering.

"There're laces in the back, that's why you need help. They can go on over your shirt, but Dad gets them in really nice material, so you don't have to. It is cold out though, so..." Rori shrugged her shoulders.

Gretchen thought about it, and then pulled off her top, passing it absently to Rori. Wadding up the skirts, she pulled the garment over her head. It definitely _felt_ like a tent with sleeves.

"Sit on the bed so I can do your laces." Rori's little voice was strong and commanding, not unlike her father's.

Like a puppet, Gretchen complied. Rori hopped on the bed behind her and tightened the laces that started at the small part of Gretchen's waist and moved up over her shoulder blades. With the garment pulled over her bosom, Gretchen was glad that she'd removed her old jumper.

Rori stroked the fabric in front of her for a second and then said, "Mirror's over there."

Gretchen turned to look by the closet door, and then she walked over to the long mirror that stood next to it. Well, she was fit for Halloween, dressed like this. She looked as if she'd been sent back in time a couple of hundred years. She caught sight of Rori behind her in the mirror and waved her over.

"It’s as if I'm going to a fancy dress party. Is this really how people dress to go to Diagon Alley?"

Rori nodded, playing with her skirts. "Uncle Harry says it's a throw-back. He was raised Muggle. Oh, and my dad is super traditional, so there are more modern robes for sale, he just got these for you because he didn't know what you would like."

Gretchen pulled Rori to stand in front of her in the mirror. Looking at the two of them, she gasped. Their robes were comparable in style and both of them had curls flowing down their backs. It could very easily be the portrait of a mother and daughter. Rori and Gretchen stared at each other, lost in the mirror until a loud knock came from the door.

Severus asked, "Is there a problem?"

"No, Dad, we’ll be right out!" Rori replied, desperately trying to hang on to the moment. She leaned back against Gretchen and clutched at her robes.

"Let's go," Gretchen whispered, also reluctant to leave the mirror. Rori nodded, getting her shoes out of her wardrobe. Gretchen stood with the door open, shifting her weight awkwardly.

Feeling embarrassed, Rori reluctantly backed away. "What?" 

Gretchen stifled a groan, but she couldn’t help herself. "Uhm, hold my hand?" She even dared to extend it just a little.

Rori rushed to take it, and the two of them walked hand in hand back to the sitting room. It meant taking the stairs a little awkwardly, but it was worth it. They sat thigh to thigh on the couch as they put on their shoes. Both were aware of the attention they were drawing, although a quick glance at Severus or Albus revealed nothing.

"Unfortunately, you'll have to separate so you can side-along," Albus announced as he offered a small travelling cloak to Rori. She nodded and reluctantly moved away, getting up to don the cloak before embracing him. With a soft pop, they Disapparated.

"Where'd they go? Where'd he take her?" Gretchen felt panic rise up inside of her.

Severus stepped forward carefully. "They've just gone ahead; we'll be right behind them." He extended his hand.

Following Rori's example, she took it and felt better instantly. He led her over to the door where a cloak for each of them hung on the wall. Severus put on his, and then helped her, moving to secure the clasp at the top when it gave her trouble. Then she wrapped her arms around him, sighing contentedly.

"Gretchen," Severus whispered, "Embracing is not strictly necessary."

Her face flamed. God, she was such a fool! She started to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around her to stop her.

"I'm not complaining; I just want you to know. And we'll add embarrassment to your list of accomplishments. Very impressive."

Without another word, Severus followed Albus and Rori.

***

It was a cold day, and the streets were empty as most people worked on Mondays. They had all landed in a back alley, and once he had Gretchen’s feet on the ground, Severus pulled back slightly, retrieving a vial and a small paper envelope from his pocket. He began whispering, "Now, Gretchen. We can't have you running around looking like the heroine of the Wizarding World. We won't make it five minutes in Diagon Alley before the media frenzy begins, and we do not want that."

Gretchen nodded, leaning away from his body so she could look up at him as he spoke.

"This vial contains a potion that will make you look like Ginevra Potter, Harry's wife, for an hour. It's totally harmless, and I believe it will taste like aniseed balls."

Gretchen nodded again, and Severus pulled his arm from around her to uncork the bottle, open the envelope and pull out one of Ginny's hairs. Dropping it in the vial, he put his thumb over the top to verify that it fizzed properly.

"Bottoms up."

She took the vial from him, and put it to her lips. When she hesitated in tipping it back, Rori grabbed her free hand and nodded up at her. That was all she needed to move forward. The liquid in the tube made her belly feel warm. Then she felt her body change, her scalp tingling as her hair straightened and brightened. The form of her shoulders flattened out into more of a spritely shape. She grew half an inch and lost fifteen pounds from her body. It felt as if she could run a marathon. She hopped on her toes a few times and giggled.

"This is extraordinary!"

"There's a window over there if you'd like to look." Severus pointed his gaze down the alleyway, and Gretchen and Rori trotted over to it.

With her free hand she touched her face, amazed. "She's beautiful. No wonder Harry married her!"

After agreeing with her and tidied her hair and her travelling cloak, Rori said, "Well, _Aunt Ginny,_ it only lasts an hour so we have to hurry."

The group hurried out of the alley and onto the street. Severus glared at everyone who dared to look their way, but the friendly face of Albus Dumbledore always drew a crowd. By the time they got to Fortescue's Ice Cream, they had to leave him behind; he was delaying them too greatly.

Luckily, once they were without him, they made it to Ollivander's Wands in almost no time. Severus opened the door for them, following behind them quickly. Once she crossed the threshold, though, Gretchen dropped to the floor. The shop was raucous and the clamour caused her physical pain, as if she was being struck every time the noise sounded.

* * *

Severus entered the shop and discovered the horrible noise of every wand in the shop rattling furiously in its box. He also saw Gretchen kneeling on the floor, covering her ears. From somewhere in the back, Ollivander came running out.

"Hurry, hurry! Follow me!" He kicked a rug, which flipped back to reveal a trap door. Rori ran for it, but Gretchen didn't move; she seemed frozen in pain. Severus kneeled down and picked her up before hurrying behind them. Going down the stairs beneath the trap door last, Ollivander pointed his wand at the rug so that it would right itself once he closed the trap door.

The basement room was as large as the shop above it, but there were no small boxes of wands stacked there. In their place were dozens, if not hundreds of magical staves. Severus took in the room, noticing there were couches all around. Most importantly, everything was blessedly quiet.

Severus held Gretchen sitting against him while she recovered. Rori was wrapped around her, and everyone was catching their breath.

Ollivander pointed his wand at the coffee table and a tea service appeared. "Good afternoon Mister Snape, Miss Snape, Mrs Potter." He pointedly looked at Gretchen, his brow furrowed and his face pulled down grimly. "Or should I say, 'Gretchen Jones'?" Then he turned around and muttered, "Hermione Granger, Hermione Snape," again and again as he wandered around the room.

"Father, I thought we were here to look at wands," Rori said softly.

Then a tapping on the trap door sounded, and Severus said, "I think that would be the man who has ruined every plan I made for today." He tried to be sour, but he was too intrigued to put his heart into it. Almost no one had carried a staff in the last few hundred years, not since wizards became heavily persecuted. Occasionally someone with a penchant for awkward channelling tools would walk about with one, but it was rare.

Once Albus was shaking Ollivander's hand, he said, "You've gone on an errand – I put the sign up on the door for you."

Severus loosened his arm from around Gretchen and rubbed her back. She pulled away from his body and moved to sit properly on the couch, taking in Albus and Ollivander, and finally the room.

"Very good." Ollivander went back to his search, walking along the walls and through racks of staves. He came back holding one in each hand. The first was straight as a post and longer than he was tall. It was a lighter tone than the second but not by much. The second was more natural with an intricate twist at the top. He moved to stand in front of Gretchen, and said, "Which shall you try first?"

"What do you mean, try?" Gretchen looked at him, and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, hold, mostly. A staff is like a wand in that each one is looking for its master; once you’ve found your staff, you’ll know. Also, a staff is much heartier. It is more of a conduit for wandless magic. In a case such as this, it is important to channel the magic intentionally before trying to put it through a wand, which is much more delicate."

Gretchen stood and shrugged. She reached for the straight, pole-like staff. Once her hand was around it, she dropped it, as if burned. 

Severus leaned back to watch, intrigued by the turn of events. He wasn’t surprised that she was reluctant to try the next.

"They are of opposing craftsmanship, dear, I'm certain that you will not have the same experience." Ollivander nodded at her encouragingly.

She frowned back at him but reached for it anyway. Once it was in her hand, nothing.

Ollivander was surprised by this, but unfazed and began his search again. He wandered the basement room, occasionally changing direction suddenly as if struck with inspiration, and when he came back with a third staff, he was confident it was the right one.

Gretchen was walking toward him when he turned to bring it to her. She was immediately drawn to it, the sheen of the wood, dark brown with highlights in rose and blond woods. Her hand reached for it, even as she investigated the way it tapered from top to bottom. The bottom was rectangular with rounded corners. There was a narrower place just about at the height of her waist, and her hand fitted around it easily. Above her hand there was about a foot of solid staff before the blond, dark brown, and rose coloured woods extended in small branches that curled together into a knot at the top.

"Oh, yes!" Gretchen smiled.

The light in the room seemed to brighten, then, and Severus was awestruck. Rori hopped off the couch and walked over to Gretchen, taking her hand.

"Isn't it beautiful, sweetie?"

"Yes, Mum," Rori said.

The light in the room dimmed then. In the next moment, Rori's face froze as if she'd uttered a swear word and been caught.

Holding the staff in one hand and Rori's hand in the other, Gretchen smiled and nodded. Then, she collapsed.

* * *

When Gretchen woke up, she was in a very cosy bed. The grey light of dawn was coming through the cracks in the curtains. As she moved to rub her eyes, her head began to throb, and she winced. It wasn't like her to drink, but she supposed everyone got carried away now and again. She rolled to her side to reach for the glass of water she knew would be waiting on her bedside table. She needed to hydrate and sleep it off.

Unsure of where exactly on the table the glass was, Gretchen dared to open one eye to the room. What she saw froze her body but made her heart pound in her chest.

The man from her dreams was staring at her, his beady black eyes and hooked nose peering from behind a cascade of silky black curls. In her bleariness, she thought he looked quite like a bird, or maybe a demon. Then, he carefully withdrew one arm from around the little girl in his lap, and she realised he was, indeed, a man. Gretchen's heart began to slow to a more natural rhythm. She heaved a scratching, shuddering sigh of relief and allowed him to make the next move.

* * *

Severus put his finger to his lips. Rori stirred for a moment before her hips slid into the crevice between his thighs and the arm of the chair. With one arm totally unburdened he gestured to the water glass just beyond Gretchen's finger tips. She reached for it and drank up.

"What is your name?"

The answer was out of her lips before she even drew a breath. "Gretchen Jones." She flinched.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes."

"Are you afraid?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what fear is."

"Do you remember the events from approximately thirty-six hours ago?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Do you remember anything from your time spent unconscious?"

"No."

With that, Severus frowned and began to bundle Rori up in his arms. Her quiet whimper slowed him, but he finished arranging her with practiced efficiency. Finally, he stood, moving for the door.

"Wait!" Gretchen cried softly.

Severus' feet stilled but he didn't turn.

"Please, please let me have her. I-" Gretchen stopped. She was wincing with every sound she made.

As her words quieted, Severus turned. He had drugged her, lacing her water with Veritaserum. He had to know what he was dealing with for Rori's sake, as well as his own. He nodded, and Gretchen moved as quickly as she could to make room. It wasn't very quick at all, but Severus could easily see the feverish intent of her actions.

Gretchen lay on her side, forfeiting the lion's share of the narrow twin bed to the girl. Severus filled the space with Rori's body, and pulled his arms from around her carefully. He stood to watch what Gretchen would do.

Immediately she pulled the blankets from behind her over Rori's body, thoroughly verifying that the girl was covered. When she was through, she sank her shoulder and arm under the blankets as well, and moved to hold the girl against her body.

"Not too tight or she'll thrash about." Severus' command was whisper quiet but strong as steel.

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"I don't kno-ow. I just do!" Gretchen's voice cracked as if she was sobbing, but her face was dry and her features neutral. She pressed her lips into Rori's hairline for a moment. Then Gretchen buried her face in Rori's hair and sighed.

"Are you feeling something, Gretchen?" Severus demanded. He needed to be patient, but he wasn't conditioned for such high-stakes emotional deconstruction any more.

Brown curls tumbled over black as Gretchen shook her head in the negative.

Severus watched them for several long minutes despite noticing that, shortly after his final question, they both had the level breathing of those in deep sleep. As much as he longed to watch over them every second, he knew his weary body wasn't up to it. Severus turned and pointed his wand at the chair, and it vanished for a moment before returning to its normal place by the fire.

Then he slithered into bed. He had numerous kinks in his body from acting as Rori's mattress since she had appeared in his doorway several hours ago. Severus couldn't turn her away when her eyes were so full of tears and worries that she had ruined it all. He had explained again to her that she hadn't done anything wrong, and she seemed, finally – after over an hour of whimpered counter-arguments – to concede. Every muscle in her body relaxed once she let go of her emotional burden, and she slept on him with the weight of someone four times her size.

Now it was his turn to rest. He would sleep with his ears ever attentive, but he would prepare his body for another impossible day.


	8. Chapter 7

Gretchen awoke with a start. Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself looking straight into a pair of dark eyes.

This must have been what Rori was waiting for, because she smiled wide and whispered, "Good morning. Are you hungry?"

Rubbing her eyes and rolling onto her back, Gretchen stretched and groaned. Her body felt stiff, but in a good way. She had tried running and yoga for a while, and that same happy stiffness was in her body now. Also, she was downright famished, and she told Rori so.

Rori practically bounced where she stood at the side of the bed. "Good. Dad's making breakfast right now, and then Papa Albus is coming over to start your practice. Dad said you should wear whatever you would wear to work out." She patted a small pile of clothes at the foot of the bed.

"I need to brush my teeth," Gretchen muttered, grimacing at the taste of morning breath. It seemed so much worse than usual. "How long did I sleep?" she called through the bathroom door after she used the loo.

She was well on her way to giving her teeth a good scrub when Rori replied, "Just three days."

Gretchen found that difficult to believe. She turned and opened the door open. "What?" she asked around her toothbrush.

"You had a lot of magic in you, that's all."

"And I don't now?"

Rori played with the end of the bedspread. "Well, not less, but..."

"But?" Gretchen turned and spat into the sink. A quick rinse of her mouth, and then she had a cool, damp flannel on her face, trying to get three days’ worth of sleep out of her eyes.

"It's just organised differently, that's all." Rori moved around the bed and leaned on the door frame.

Gretchen looked at the reflection in the mirror. The girl definitely took after her father, with her arms crossed just like his and the same expression on her face. Perhaps it was a non-expression, though. Working in the bookshop had given Gretchen some exposure to children, and she noticed that they usually wore their thoughts plain as day on their faces. Rori, though, looked as pleasantly blank as could be.

Narrowing her eyes, Gretchen wrung out the flannel and draped it over the side of the sink. She turned to Rori. "What?"

Rori shifted her weight to stand equally on both feet, fingers playing together absently and replied, "What do you mean 'what'?"

"I mean, _Aurora_ , that you are being intentionally vague. I can see it in your face."

The girl crossed her arms again, but her face stayed the same. "You can't see anything on my face."

"My point exactly." Gretchen walked past her, back into the bedroom and moved to the pile of clothes. She made quick work of putting them on. The pile included knickers, socks, tracksuit bottoms, and a sports bra. She moved to the wardrobe where her things had been, but Rori darted in front of it, blocking the drawers.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a shirt."

"You don't need a shirt. You're very fit and pretty. You should go down like that," Rori said with a sweet smile.

Too sweet.

"I will be just as fit and pretty with a shirt on. Besides, I'm not going to breakfast half-dressed." Gretchen locked eyes with the girl, and Rori eventually moved to the side. She opened the drawers until she found what she was looking for.

"What is the delay up here?" Severus asked from the doorway, startling the room's occupants.

Gretchen turned around, fumbling to cover up with the still-folded top. Before she could get her other hand around to unfolding it, Rori stepped in and entwined their fingers.

It was obviously a plot to keep Gretchen exposed, she thought, but there was something so right about that tiny hand in hers. She could not pull away.

Just as Rori was about to reply, Severus said, "Mischief, clearly."

"No, Father. Gretchen and I were just talking about clothes. You wouldn't be interested."

Severus smiled, and Gretchen felt her skin prick up. It was not a nice smile. "Fashion _is_ a subject where my knowledge is lacking. Why don't you enlighten me?"

Gretchen looked down at Rori and saw that the girl was not intimidated. After a moment, their hands pulled apart, and Rori moved to stand beside her father. Then she wrapped one arm around him and said, "Gretchen wants to wear that ratty old top to do her practice, and I said that she would look better without it."

"Define 'better'." Severus was looking down at his daughter now, and Gretchen eyed the two. She felt as much like the watcher as the watched.

"Well, I think that Gretchen looks good just as she is. Don't you, Father?"

"I do."

"So that settles it." Rori smiled and moved away from Severus, her arm already stretched to take the shirt from Gretchen.

However, Severus's hand clamped down on Rori's shoulder and kept her in place. "I think not. When has incomplete attire ever been allowable at the table?"

Finally, Rori's confidence seemed to stutter. "I thought we just decided that her attire was complete."

"Hardly. Furthermore, from the context of your earlier assertion, you are using 'good' to mean 'attractive'. Do you think it is wise for Gretchen to present herself in such a way to... Papa Albus?"

Gretchen watched Rori's face, and it seemed that the other shoe had dropped for Rori. She shook her head rather quickly, her nose scrunching up in distaste. Gretchen felt it was allowable to put the top on at last.

Rori shrugged, smiling genuinely for the first time all morning, and then darted out of the room, shouting, "Better hurry, or I'll eat all the bacon!"

Severus watched, an indulgent smile on his face. "It's true; she will. I encourage you to eat heartily this morning, Gretchen. You have quite the day ahead of you." His arm swept in front of him, indicating that she should exit the room first.

As Gretchen walked by, Severus touched her lower back. At first it was with just his fingertips, but soon his whole hand was pressed against her. She looked up at him, and he was staring down at her. His breathing was slow and steady, and her breath deepened to match.

His voice, when he spoke, was smooth and quiet. "I apologise. I suspect her exposure to Potter and his wife, among other couples, has given her unwarranted expectations about the nature of our relationship. I will speak to her."

By the time he had finished speaking, Gretchen was entranced. His voice had lulled her. All she could do in response was nod dumbly. Then, his hand pulled away from her body, but not before his fingers tickled up her spine. She had never felt anything like it, and she walked down the stairs in a daze. Only the sight of Rori sitting in her chair at the table chewing her bacon could bring Gretchen back to reality. The smells at the table brought her hunger back to the fore, and she dug in as if nothing else mattered in the world.

* * *

After breakfast, Severus had Rori clean up the dishes, and he took Gretchen into his study. Albus would be coming soon, and he wanted to talk to Gretchen when they both seemed to be feeling stable. He chose his usual chair, and she chose the two-seater sofa. It occurred to Severus, then, that he would need to buy a chair for Hermione and perhaps also a sofa fit for three.

Those concerns were better saved for later, though. Gretchen was staring at him, and he wanted to take advantage of her complete attention.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked. He had been going over this discussion again and again as he watched and waited for her to wake up. Without his careful plans to keep a measured pace, events had unfurled into chaos. He wouldn't allow it to happen again.

Gretchen nodded and sank back onto the pillows. Severus let the silence embrace them for a moment. He wanted to watch her, to let her feel comfortable in this life he had built with Rori. His study was warm, perhaps even cosy. There were nice windows and bookshelves. The wall colour, where it could be seen, was a shade of blue that Hermione had told him she favoured. It was striking against the polished wood throughout the room. The fabrics in the room were variations on a paisley pattern, large enough to avoid looking busy.

She sighed and asked, "You wanted to talk?"

Severus was tracing the pattern on the arm of his chair. He knew he looked thoughtful, perhaps even concerned. That is what he wanted Gretchen to think, at least. He had so many skills that had served him over his life. He was preparing to employ them all to achieve this goal. He needed to reel her in slowly.

"Sunday – and Monday, too – were overwhelming, and for that, I must apologise. I felt it, and Rori felt it, and we didn't even experience the world turn on its ear as you did." Severus looked over at Gretchen, as if searching for confirmation from her.

A shrug was his only answer. Severus watched her closely, storing away bits and pieces. He _knew_ she had over-exerted herself on Sunday. After she had been in his mind, she had vented magically, and even though it had only been late afternoon, she had gone to bed and slept through the night. Monday, with Albus and Rori, Rori's summary of events, and then Ollivander's. It was dizzying even to remember.

But Gretchen didn't seem to appreciate that aspect. She just sat there, waiting for him.

He went back to tracing the pattern on his chair for a moment. "What's more, I was glib about your emotional reactions." Severus held up his hand when she started to speak. "I do not mean that you did not get angry at your flat on Sunday, or any of the other reactions we noted prior to visiting Ollivander's. However, I do want to impress upon you that this will not be simple, nor will it be easy.

"What we have accomplished – and I can assure you that they are great accomplishments in your situation – are the most superficial expressions of human emotion. I want you to know what it feels like to be blind with fury, paralysed by your sadness. I want you to know what fear is and to feel, truly experience, the happiness that life can award."

She stared at him for a moment before nodding. The silence in the room spread out again, and Severus could hear Rori putting the dry dishes away. They clattered together because Rori insisted she was too tall to warrant using the step stool any more. He felt his heart swell at the thought of his daughter.

"Gretchen, do you believe that your life was good enough?"

Looking away from him, Gretchen let her eyes wander about the room. "Better than most, surely. I have a good job, and I make a fair living. I don't have to worry about my safety."

Severus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers. "Why did you come here, then?"

There was a long pause before she spoke. "Well, you came for the necklace." She realised she hadn't thought of it since she arrived, and she reached for it at her neck.

Severus smiled at her. "You are very interesting to me, Gretchen. The way you cling to that necklace is... curious." The clock on his desk in the corner chimed. Albus would be arriving in fifteen minutes. "We can discuss this more later. I did not intend to spend so much time on this at all. What I wanted to preface is that Albus will be here to begin your training with your new staff." He opened his hand up to the corner by the door where the staff from Ollivander's rested. It was on the wall in a mounted bracket, as if it had always been there. "It will be your primary tool in the work ahead."

She looked over at the staff and gasped. It was truly a sight to behold, and Severus had spent a fair amount of time this week staring at it. Albus had come by each day to check on Gretchen and Hermione and to give Severus some respite. Severus had used the break to maintain the house and to shower and nap furtively. When he had extra time, he would stare at the beautiful staff, the top twisting and curling around itself.

It reminded Severus of Hermione's hair, particularly one morning, early in her pregnancy. She had been teasing him as she lay in bed, and he had finally given in to her prodding, grabbing her feet as he stood at the foot of the bed and pulling her body towards him. Her hair had trailed down the bed, but curled and turned around itself, golden and chestnut highlights catching the morning light.

Severus had examined the staff thoroughly, finding the thinner branches at the top to be sturdy. Also, though they hadn't been there before Gretchen gripped it, symbols had been burnt around the hand-hold in the moments between her reaching for it and her fainting. Ollivander had said that was not an unusual occurrence when a staff chose a witch or wizard. There was a larger magical core in a staff, and the immediate connection could cause 'spontaneous inscription'.

"The last time I held it, I passed out for three days. What makes you think I'm interested?" she asked, never taking her eyes off it.

Rising to retrieve the staff, Severus didn't speak until he was standing in front of her, angling it towards her in an inviting way. "Your holding of this staff was not the issue. We have a fair idea what the issue is, but we do not have time to discuss it. Albus and I both believe that you and your staff alone will cause no problem. The issue arose when Rori took your hand while you were holding the staff, causing some sort of magical short circuit, if you will.

"For the time being, directly before and after your practice with Albus, Rori will not be present. After you complete your daily practice, you will rest. In the afternoons, when you are feeling up to it, we will work on trying to trigger your memories. We will make a conscious effort not to overdo any of these activities. Agreed?"

Gretchen stood and slid her hand around the smallest section of the staff. "Sounds reasonable."

She didn't say anything about the symbols, which surprised Severus. She had stared at the staff as he outlined her day and not asked about them. Something was not right. As he opened his mouth to speak, the doorbell rang. "And that will be Albus." It would have to wait. Severus led her out of the room to greet the headmaster.

* * *

Gretchen wasn't sure what she was doing out in this field, holding her staff in both of her hands in front of her body, obeying the prompts of this impossibly old man. Recite the alphabet from a to z. Recite the alphabet from z to a. Again. From alpha to omega. From omega to alpha. Again. Asch to ziu. Ziu to asch. Again.

She didn't feel as if she was _doing_ anything.

Count to forty-nine. Count down. Count by odds. Count down. Count by evens. Count down. Count by squares. Count down. Count by cubes. Count down. Count to zero.

Open your eyes.

She did. Gretchen opened her eyes to the man. He was smiling. A fog had swept up from the lake and was catching the light as it lifted from the horizon. She swooned, but held herself up with the staff in her hands. She felt empty. She felt clean. It felt so good to see Professor Dumbledore again; she knew he'd know what to do. He always did.

But now he was frowning. He moved his staff to his right side, and although she had been mirroring him before, she moved her staff to _her_ right side.

Count down from one hundred. 'Breathe, Gretchen,' he was saying. She heard a whimper, and that heaviness was growing again inside her body. How had she not noticed it before? And then that dark man was carrying her. He wasn't a nice man, but she trusted him. He smelled good, like home. Why couldn't she remember his name?

And then she was lying on the sofa, and she thought maybe a house-elf could bring her toast. It was all she could keep down some days. But Severus brought her a cup of tea instead. She had had just a couple of swallows when she felt the Calming Draught kick in. She lifted the cup away from her chest, and someone took it away. Gretchen frowned. She had just got up; she shouldn't be napping on the couch. What had they put in her tea? She couldn't remember. Maybe she _did_ need a little more sleep. Curling up under her favourite blanket, she dozed off right away.

*****

Gretchen woke up confused. She was wearing her workout clothes, and she was under a blanket on an unfamiliar green sofa. It was far too nice to be hers. There were voices trailing in from another room. A masculine baritone and the twitter of a little girl. Gretchen stretched, her arms sweeping out to the side. Her fingers tingled, and she shook them out gently.

"She's up!" announced the girl, and Gretchen heard a chair scrape in the other room. The next thing she knew, she had a ten-year-old pressed against her hip on the sofa. Rori asked, "How do you feel?"

"Fine." Gretchen rubbed her eyes and frowned. "Why am I on the sofa? Did I miss the practice?"

"No! Papa Albus came, and after, he said you did a very good job. He also mentioned to tell you that your memory will be questionable, but that it's okay."

Gretchen put her hands over her face. Well, she _did_ remember a little something, but it was very dreamlike. She twisted around, looking for Severus. He was leaning in the doorway and watching her.

"So I just have to believe that I didn't sleep the day away."

Severus said, "Only about forty-five minutes. We have not had lunch yet."

His voice was very soothing and rich. Perhaps it was foolish, but Gretchen felt safe when he spoke, secure even. She turned back to Rori. "Now what?"

"Well, we were playing Cheat in the kitchen while you rested. Do you want to play? We can teach you."

Rubbing her eyes one last time, Gretchen nodded. "I know how to play. It was actually one of the things I did while I was in hospital."

"Play games?" Rori asked, taking Gretchen's hand in hers and pulling her to the kitchen, choosing to sit them in neighbouring chairs at the table.

Severus put a tall mug of tea by Gretchen's hand, and then he picked up the cards and began to shuffle them. He and Rori picked up the conversation they had left off when Gretchen woke, and as she picked up her tea, she closed her eyes just to listen to the sound of them. The steam rose against her cheeks, and she was completely at ease.

* * *

They played cards until lunch and then kept at it until dinner. Severus had left for a moment to send an owl to Longbottom, who had tentatively been appointed to start the Pensieve viewings. It would wait until the next day, however. Gretchen and Rori were too engrossed in the game for Severus to disturb them.

He knew that he and Rori were far too good at this particular game for most of their friends. Potter always lost miserably to Rori, and Severus loved to watch him get outwitted by his daughter. They always had a good time, but Potter would rather play other games, like Quidditch. Gretchen was different though. As they played, she watched them like a hawk. All she said about her difficulties was that the doctors had been much easier on her when she was first learning than Rori and Severus were now.

Of course, the doctors would have been looking for data on Gretchen's capacity, and he and Rori were not. Well, not the same sort of data anyway. Severus had to admit, though, that Gretchen had a strong aptitude for card counting and by the end of the afternoon, was beginning to hold her own against Rori, who was quite sly for her age.

The two of them combined were a challenge for Severus, but he had no qualms about pitting them against each other to ensure his own victory every now and again. And while they did that, he watched.

Severus thought that Gretchen was having a pleasant time. She began to speak informally and began to tease Rori when either of them did well on any given round. He couldn't deny that he felt a little jealous of Gretchen's focus on the little girl, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. More importantly, any reactions that Rori could provoke in Gretchen were invaluable. Little eye rolls and conspiratorial glances her way and plenty of quips that had Rori giggling all seemed to accumulate into something momentous for Gretchen.

She, however, never giggled. Severus could see her face smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes. She was well trained in pleasantry, adept in adapting.

No matter. It was only the first real day. They would do the work, slowly and steadily. Seeds were being planted and would need time to grow, so to speak. If Severus was anything, it was patient.


	9. Chapter 8

The next day after lunch, Severus let Neville Longbottom into the house, nodding to the man as he walked through the door. Longbottom’s visits were regular but infrequent. He and Severus had established a very delicate peace, and neither wanted to risk it by invoking Longbottom's curious ability to be a complete dunderhead.

When Rori poked her head out of the kitchen and saw who was there, she squealed and ran into the room. "Uncle Nev!"

Longbottom scooped her up and squeezed until Rori groaned. "You can't be that excited to see me. Seems like I just saw you a week ago, at some party or other."

Back on her feet, Rori stuck her tongue out at Longbottom. "You said you'd show me the new Chinese Chomping Cabbages!"

"And _you_ said you'd come and visit me in the greenhouse." Longbottom sniffed and pouted. Rori began to pull faces at him, and then Longbottom was tickling her, and her gales of laughter filled the room.

Severus looked up to see Gretchen standing near the bottom of the steps, one foot lifted as she stared at Longbottom and Rori. Her jaw was slack, and one small tear ran down the side of her cheek. Severus cleared his throat, and the noise broke up the scene in the room. Gretchen moved forward, wiping her face with one hand and then wiping her hand on her denims.

As if he were her anchor, Gretchen moved to stand besides Severus. Neville and Rori stood opposite from them, Rori squirming each time Neville poked her in the side. Severus watched Gretchen from the corner of his eye. This was to be a control test of what Weasley had done on Sunday. Trevor, Longbottom's adventurous amphibian from his first years at school, was a loaded name, and if Gretchen held true to form, Hermione would get the first reaction.

Severus turned his body toward Gretchen and placed his hand on the small of her back. "Gretchen, I'd like you to meet Neville Longbottom."

She leaned forward and shook his hand.

After the pleasantries, Longbottom asked, "Have you seen Trevor yet?"

Gretchen frowned. "I don't know whom you are talking about. I've never met a Trevor."

Rori frowned, but Longbottom seemed only to take it as a challenge. He reached out and took Gretchen’s hand, leading her into the kitchen, where the Pensieve was set out. Longbottom, in that inane, prattling way of his, was telling Gretchen all about Trevor, and how he had got loose all the time.

It was at this point that Gretchen said, "Well, I hope Malfoy doesn't find him before we do."

_There_ was the marker they had been waiting for! "Rori," Severus whispered, "Go and invite Draco to Sunday dinner. Quick now, and then stay in your room until someone comes for you."

And then Rori was off up the stairs to the top of the house where their owl roosted. Once she was gone, Severus moved into the kitchen, where Gretchen and Longbottom were already in the Pensieve. He started up the kettle for tea and then sat at the head of the table, waiting for them to return from Longbottom's memories.

* * *

Nearly half an hour later, Gretchen found herself staring into her tea mug, trying to keep dizziness at bay.

Longbottom stirred his tea with slow, silent rotations. He hadn't put anything in it, but he stirred it nonetheless. “I came to the bookshop more times than you knew," Neville said.

Gretchen, who had had to vomit after coming out of the Pensieve, and had then destroyed another lovely silk pillow that Severus had provided for her, shifted in her chair. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Well, you're not her, are you? You don't know me. You don't even know what Potions is, let alone how many points you lost for helping me through it."

Severus snorted, and Gretchen's head snapped round to look at him a moment. He seemed ... just a bit irritated. Then she turned back to Neville and put her hands around her teacup. "Still ..."

Neville scowled at her. "What 'still'? This is a two-way street, Gretchen. If we were so easy to pick out of the crowd, why didn't you ever say anything to _us_? Hermione would have."

Confronted with the hurt and anger on Neville's face, Gretchen felt short of breath. She tried to speak, but nothing would come out; her jaw just worked as if she were a fish trying to breathe air. Something slimy stretched into her gut, and she felt her skin crawl.

"And that necklace! Do you know I drew that phoenix? It was something Ron and I worked out just before our lot joined the Order. We had it made from goblin-wrought silver, and then we each put the phoenix on our skin with a spell." Neville was rolling up his sleeve, now, and on the inside of his forearm, just below his elbow, was a phoenix. It was larger than hers by a good deal, but it was the same pink as the scar she had. "I would see _that necklace_ on you, and I knew it was a Portkey, and you were so close, Gretchen, so close!" His fist hit the table. Then he pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped his eyes.

Gretchen's fingers fiddled with the charm, with a definite sense of something uncomfortable happening. The atmosphere in the room was thick, and she was staring at this man, completely befuddled by what he'd told her and what he'd shown her. She didn't know what to do with herself, so she reviewed the day so far, attempting to feel grounded again. She decided right off that the Pensieve was not as nice as ‘Legilimens’, whatever that was. But Neville had been so disarming, charming even, with his nice face and warm smile, why should she not follow him into the magic salad bowl? Then, as she'd watched the little girl they all thought her to have been, she had felt more detached than ever.

Had that been a sign that they were close? Did she lose interest the closer they got? Her eyes were tracing the wood grain of the table top, when Neville finally pushed away from the table.

"I should go. I'm sorry. I had no intention of saying any of these things tonight. I just ..." His head fell back, and he sighed. It was loud and tired.

Severus stood and Gretchen followed. Neville moved toward the door, and she went to see him out. Once the two of them were standing before it, Neville, with his hand on the doorknob, toed the floor and said, "Gretchen, it's good to have you here. It's weird but very good. I don't want you to think that ... well, it's not like you are intentionally doing any of this. I'm sure once you get your magic in hand, even if you don't regain your memory, that you can have a good life here, with us."

Then she was surrounded by one of his bear hugs. Just as she had watched happen to Rori, Gretchen was now feeling the strong arms cradle her, squeezing just a bit much. She didn't really go for hugging, hadn't really understood the appeal. Now, however, she felt like she could relax into him, and she even dared to return it. It was quite nice, in fact, and she didn't even realise when she lost consciousness again.

* * *

When she passed out this time, Severus did not hesitate to cast the _Rennervate_. He had seen the magical pulse that happened before Gretchen's body went slack, and it was nothing more than a run-of-the-mill moment of magical flux. Much as rising too quickly after being stationary for an extended period could cause rapid blood shift, so could Gretchen's magic sweep in and out like an angry tide.

This would have to be accounted for as they proceeded. 

Longbottom held Gretchen in his arms when her body went slack. He hefted her up under her knees and shoulders after Severus cast the spell. Gretchen was blinking, her eyes unfocused as her head lolled forward.

Severus muttered something about careless Gryffindors but decided action was the best course now. "To my bedroom, upstairs on the left, just past Rori's." He followed Longbottom, barely registering that Rori's door was open as they passed by.

Longbottom lay Gretchen down on top of the covers. Too bad he had chosen Severus's bed instead of the one Gretchen had been using. Severus was just about to move her when she stretched out, smelling the pillow and then sighing in satisfaction. 

The two men met at the door, and Severus spoke low as he said, "Thank you for coming. Please compare your thoughts with the Headmaster’s."

With one last look at the woman in bed, Longbottom loped out the door. Severus listened to him knock at Rori's and then say his goodbyes. After, Rori came and took his hand.

"Is it okay that she keeps passing out, Dad?"

"I'm awake, Rori," Gretchen announced, rolling over, although she pulled the blanket around her as she went. She burrowed beneath it, sniffing it as if it were the most pleasant scent.

Severus stroked Rori's hair, an absent-minded pastime. "Yes, I woke her back up. Sometimes it will be viable to do so, although we must keep our pace moderate and try to avoid over-doing it to begin with."

Rori sighed, sounding disappointed. "So that's it for the day?" She walked to where Gretchen lay in bed and took her hand. Their fingers interlocked, and Gretchen let go of the blanket to stroke Rori's hair.

"As far as visitors with memories in Pensieve silver are concerned, yes. However, I suspect we can find something to while away the hours." Severus watched from the doorway as Gretchen poured all of her attention onto Rori, as if memorising her. "Perhaps Gretchen would like to sit with her staff after she has rested and do the breathing Albus recommended. You could show her how you learned to meditate while we were in Japan, if you like."

Rori bounced a couple of times and turned to Gretchen. "Would that be okay?"

Gretchen smiled, and Severus felt a pang of loss as her face took on one of Hermione's old expressions. After Rori was born, Hermione had spent hours staring at their baby, stroking her hair, and all the time she had worn a secret smile. Long after she'd rocked her daughter to sleep, sometimes even forgetting to tuck her breast away after a feeding, Hermione had watched Aurora. He didn't hear Gretchen's response, but from the way Rori clapped her hands, the answer must have been a 'yes'.

The two were enchanted with each other, so Severus stepped from the room to the bathroom, being as quiet as he could be, to get himself together.

* * *

Gretchen saw Severus leave from the corner of her eye, and she saw the strange non-expression on his face just before he went. She didn't stop watching Rori, though. "You know that you and I and the staff aren't allowed to be together, right?" Gretchen asked.

Rori was swinging their clasped hands back and forth in gentle time. "I know. I don't like it, but it's better that way. I was really scared when you fainted in Ollivander's."

The little girl's face fell, and their hands stopped swinging. Gretchen moved back on the bed, stretched out on her side. She patted one hand on the bed beside her, and Rori crawled up. Sitting with her legs folded, she fiddled with the ends of her hair.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rori." Gretchen looked up at the girl. "You understand that, right?"

She nodded. "Dad explained it to me. It's just..."

Silence stretched out, and then Rori flopped on her back, pushing herself until her head was on the pillow.

Gretchen took up one of Rori's curls, so familiar and yet so different. "It's a lot. A lot of pressure and a lot of change." Rori looked at her, and Gretchen felt the unbelievable weight of her attention. Also, the unbelievable lightness of it. "I'm glad I'm here, though, with you and Severus."

Rori budged up closer, pulling the blanket over her so they were under it together. They both took a deep breath and sighed.

After a few moments of twisting the near-black curl around her finger, Gretchen was jarred when Rori asked, "Do you want to kiss my Dad?"

The air left Gretchen's lungs in a loud 'puff'. She recovered her breath and said, "I don't even know your Dad, and I'm not about to go snogging strange men just because they happen to claim to be my long-lost husband."

Rori smiled. "You're bad at lying. You _do_ want to snog him!"

"What are you talking about? I'm not lying." Gretchen pursed her lips at Rori, and then moved to sit up. She also tried to keep the blanket around the pair of them, and soon Rori was sitting again as well. The blanket was wrapped around their shoulders, and their knees brushed against each other.

"Yes. Yes you are. If you didn't want to snog him you would make a face or something and just say no."

Gretchen stared down at the girl: she was looking quite pleased with herself. "You're only saying that because you want me to want to." The look on Rori's face was all the answer she needed. Rori was embarrassed enough from talking about her father snogging that she couldn't hide the truth.

Then Rori switched tack. "He hasn't ever had a girlfriend my whole life."

"I can't have a girlfriend when I have an impertinent daughter like you in my life."

Gretchen’s body startled at the sound of Severus's voice, and Gretchen just barely kept herself from swearing loudly. "Must you always creep in like that?"

"Yes," he said.

Then Rori smiled. "That's how he catches all the trouble-makers."

"Curly-headed ones in particular. Dinner is downstairs, ladies."

"That was quick. You couldn't have been gone for more than a few minutes."

Rori hopped off the bed and said. "House-elves."

"What?"

Severus, frowning at Rori for some reason, said, "Take-away. It just arrived. I thought that, since you got little benefit from lunch, you might be hungry now."

"I am, thanks." Gretchen felt the sides of her mouth turn up just a little. It felt odd, and she rubbed the side of her cheek a moment. However, Severus was talking about something as he led them into the kitchen, and Gretchen soon forgot about it as she tried to follow along.

* * *

Severus had been a solitary man for much of his life. He had had one friend as a child, and by the time he left Hogwarts, he'd had none. Fellow Death Eaters could hardly be considered friends. Comrades might be a better word, but he would never have turned to one of them in a vulnerable moment. He liked to think that Albus was his friend, and some of the other staff from his time teaching, but those people could be counted on his fingers, and none of those relationships were a simple acquaintanceship that had taken root and flourished. Further, it had been his assignment to drive people away, as a good double-agent should.

When he had married, Severus had felt for the first time since he was very small what it was like to be taken care of. At first it had scoured his nerves. Hermione would set out his socks and boots when he was a few minutes late or some such thing. He had grumbled and griped, sneering at her even if she wasn't present.

She wore him down. Hermione was excellent at caring for other people, particularly if they didn't want her to. It seemed as if she liked the challenge. Their marriage had lasted barely over a year before the Dark Lord's demise, but it was all the time she needed to break through Severus's walls.

Thus, he knew what signs to look for when a person was coming to rely on someone else.

What's more, Hermione, the true spirit of Gretchen’s body, obviously wanted out and back into her life. Why else would she be so moved by seeing Longbottom play with Rori or be so entranced by her daughter? If this were any other child, she would have lost interest long ago.

Severus was keeping a tally of all the little bits he'd seen over the week, and for such a short time, there was rapid growth. He would not be announcing her progress, though, or congratulating her every move. Little smiles over such considerations were best unnoted.

At least, that's how Hermione had managed to make him feel safe enough to be taken care of all those years ago.

When Gretchen had arrived in the world, the state had provided for her welfare while she was in their care and had provided her with an education to get her on her feet, and after that she'd been on her own. Their care hadn't been such a warm affair that she’d stayed with any of her counsellors for any length of time; she had been alone for all the life she could remember. She had done well for herself, all things considered.

However, those times were over. Severus had every resource Gretchen needed in order to feel at home and cared for, and he would not refrain from doing anything if it furthered his agenda. Asking Hogwarts's house-elves to bring over some of Hermione's favourite foods was hardly an inconvenience. Gretchen's gasp of surprise and furrowed eyebrows were well worth it.

Severus watched Gretchen as she enjoyed her meal, feeling safe and relaxed with him and Rori. The conversation ebbed and flowed, and although he and Rori didn't eat much, Gretchen did. When at last she pushed her plate away, both sides of her mouth turned up just so.

They retired to the living room, each taking a spot on the green couch.

"So, Neville was the first wizard I met?" Gretchen asked, twisting her body so she could look at Severus.

Shaking his head, he said, "He was the first student you met on the train to Hogwarts. You would have gone shopping for your supplies, books, and your wand in Diagon Alley first. He was your first friend on the train and your only friend for some time."

"But I thought Harry and Ronald..."

"Oh, they became your best friends, but not at first. You were quite insufferable. Always waving your hand about and regurgitating unwanted information onto innocent bystanders."

Gretchen's eyes narrowed. "That's not very nice, Severus."

He mimicked her position on the couch, and Rori took her usual position at his side, her head pillowed on his chest.

" _I_ am not nice, Gretchen. Furthermore, it's true. Tell me, what was it like when you first got to university? Did you do all your reading well in advance? Did you have every answer to every question ready with which to assault your poor professors?"

"I did the work. I was prepared. It's not my fault the others stayed out drinking and couldn't be bothered."

"As I suspected." Severus smiled, baring his teeth.

"I was a very good student! The best you ever had!"

Beside him, Rori twitched, but Severus just wrapped his arm around her, holding her secure against his body. He hummed and turned his attention to the hearth. A flick of his wand and it was blazing.

Gretchen looked between them for a moment and then stared off into space. The conversation in the room was replaced by the ticking of the clock and a gentle wind rustling through the trees outside. With a start, Gretchen jumped up from the couch.

"My job! I can't believe I forgot about my work! I have to ring my boss. Where's the phone?"

Severus looked at her and said, "There is no phone, Gretchen. I've taken care of all that."

"What do you mean? I just came, and I didn't call or anything."

Leaning forward, Severus withdrew his body from under Rori and stood in front of Gretchen. He rested his hands on her shoulders and spoke in a calm voice. "Gretchen, I took care of it. If you want to go back, everything will be waiting for you."

"Don't go!" Rori exclaimed from her spot in the centre of the couch. "You can't go yet!"

"I don't want to go. I just-- I just remembered about my job, this second. How could I forget something like that? All my work?"

Severus looked over her face; her brow was pulled down, and she looked a bit sour. "Apart from being unconscious for half the week, I would posit that Rori and I have kept you on your toes, so to speak." He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her to her arms. "When I contacted your supervisor, she was adamant that you pursue this lead on your memories. I know it may be hard to believe, but the people in your life are not as apathetic towards your situation as you are towards them."

On the mantel, a picture frame cracked.

"I don't choose to be apathetic! I didn't choose any of this!"

The sounds of glass cracking around the room sent Severus into action mode. "Rori, go to your room at once. _Accio_ Gretchen's staff." As Rori's footsteps pounded up the stairs, Severus reached out and caught the long staff as it sailed in from his office. He stood it in front of Gretchen and moved her hands to the thinnest part.

Once she had a grip of the thing, her head fell back, and she gasped aloud. The pressure in the room changed, and the air seemed to glow just a bit.

Severus's heart pounded. It was the same glow that had surrounded Rori's crib the night Hermione vanished and after the first morning of practice with Albus. They were in it together, standing in a luminescent fog.

"Severus? Severus, what's happening?" Gretchen's head rolled forward on her shoulders. When she tried to lift it, she looked drunk, her pupils wide and glassy.

"I'm not sure. You're doing fine. You're okay. Rori's okay. It was just a bit of broken glass. Slow your breathing. There's a girl."

As her breathing slowed and her panic diminished, Severus thought he could almost see the fog sweeping back into her, through her nose, soaking into her pores. The more that she absorbed, the more stable she became.

Feeling the pressure of the crisis was over, he rolled his shoulders back.

Gretchen looked up at him from around her staff. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"Everything. Flipping out over my job, the accidental magic, the fog. What is that fog?"

Severus sank onto the couch. "That appears to be a very important question. We will have to investigate."

"I scared Rori." Gretchen sat beside him, then, and rested her head on her wrists. Her head was cradled where her hands met at the centre part of her staff, and Severus noticed there were more inscriptions than there had been before.

"No, _I_ scared Rori. She rarely causes me to raise my voice, so hearing any sense of command or urgency causes her... distress."

"I want to see her. I do not want to let go of this. It feels like the only thing anchoring me to the world right now."

Severus turned and observed Gretchen and her staff. "Perhaps we will try a controlled run to discover what it means for you and Rori and that staff to be in the same place at the same time?"

Gretchen nodded. "Will you go and talk to her first? She's probably very confused right now. I know I am."

He let his eyes rest on Gretchen's bowed head for a moment before he agreed, ascending the stairs to Rori's room.

* * *

Gretchen sat on the couch, trying yet again to get her body under control. She had never anticipated that any of these things would happen if she were to activate the necklace. The most, she had thought, was that the word would activate a beacon, and someone would come and get her, perhaps, as they did on the television.

She reached for her necklace with her left hand, securing the staff in her right. No wonder the doctors, the _Muggle_ doctors, as Rori had called them, didn't understand and couldn't fix her. All of the things that had happened so far were beyond imagination, let alone science.

Severus called to her from upstairs, and Gretchen rose, eager, so oddly _eager_ to see Rori again. Navigating the room with the staff wasn't difficult, but it was longer and heavier than a mop or broom, so it wasn't exactly easy, either. Up the stairs and around the corner to Rori's room where the little girl stood holding her father's hand.

"How are you?" Rori asked as if nothing had happened.

"Not having kittens about my boring old work anymore. That's something, right?" Gretchen turned her lips up to smile, but her forehead felt heavy with the seriousness of the moment.

Rori smiled back at her in just the same way. "Dad says we should hold hands."

"Your dad is a very clever man." Gretchen extended her left arm and flexed her fingers a bit, encouraging Rori to come over.

The little girl's smile faded, and her face turned down. "He's not always right, you know."

"Well, what do you think we should do, then?"

Her only answer was to shrug. Gretchen licked her lips and curled her fingers, beckoning Rori her way. She looked like she was tempted, and soon Gretchen was feeling that peace she could only find when Rori was near, was touching her. They blinked at each other, waiting for something, anything, but nothing happened.

Severus nodded. "Very well. The new arrangement is that Gretchen keeps the staff with her at all times."

"I seriously do not want to carry this with me all the time. Is that absolutely necessary?"

He stuck out his hand and said, " _Accio_ Ollivander's package."

Gretchen watched as a paper package sailed into the room from who knew where. It landed in Severus's hand, and he presented to her.

"What's this?" She dropped Rori's hand to take the package, moving to the bed to sit down. Rori moved with her though, and Gretchen laid the staff across both their laps so she could unwrap the package.

Inside were two harnesses. One was of thick leather; the other was brushed satin. Rori reached for the satin one, which shone softly, a deep blue colour that was uniform throughout. A page fluttered to the floor from the packaging, and Severus bent to pick it up.

Gretchen was investigating the leather harness, finding it adjustable, with two circle loops on one side. Looking up, she saw that Severus had read the note. "Well?"

"Take care around doors." He flipped it so she could see.

"I'm to strap it to my back? Well that's something, I suppose."

Severus lifted the leather harness from her lap. "Shall we try it?"

Gretchen stood, holding the staff in her right hand as Severus put the large loop of the harness over her head and one shoulder. He moved to stand behind her and smoothed the leather between her shoulder blades and down over her left hip, adjusting the loops for the staff to be toward the top of her back. Then he stepped in front of her, ensuring that the leather lay flat over her collar and between her breasts.

He did not seem to notice how close his hands were to her... body, but Gretchen felt her heart rate rise when his fingers ensured size and fit. She knew for certain that she was attracted to him now but kept it to herself. She had gone years without seeking attentions of a man; she could certainly go without now. This seemed the wisest plan, what with her life turned upside down and inside out.

"How am I to put it in there? The loops are solid."

Severus, letting his eyes drift up her body without hurry, smirked. " _Magic_ , Gretchen. Just place the staff behind your back."

She tried first to lift her hand up, but the bottom of her staff hit the stump of Rori's bed. It startled her, and Gretchen jumped. "Sorry," she muttered and bent her elbow so that the tip of staff moved from her hip up toward her shoulders. As if feeding something down the Hoover tube, the staff was sucked into the harness, and Gretchen caressed the staff as it left her hand.

Looking between Rori and Severus, she asked, "Yes? Is it in there?"

Severus nodded, moving behind her again to make some final adjustments.

Rori bounced a bit with excitement. "Do this one next, Dad. I think it's for inside anyway."

They repeated the process for the finer harness, Rori smiling at her the whole time. Once it was set, Gretchen reached out for Rori again. It was delightful how the girl gained confidence now that the staff was in its place.

"Can I show you the breathing now?" Rori asked, stroking the smooth fabric of the harness.

"I think that is a very good idea, indeed."

Rori turned, then, to her father, and said, "Witches only, please."

Looking up, Gretchen saw Severus smile down at his daughter. His eyes were truly sparkling as he said, "As if I want to sit around and watch you _breathe_. I think I'd rather have each of my arm hairs pulled out one by one."

"That could be arranged." Rori waved at him, pulling Gretchen to the mossy floor in the centre of the room to begin their lesson.


	10. Chapter 9

Stepping back for a moment, Gretchen surveyed the progress. A big Sunday dinner was spread across the kitchen table. The food had arrived out of thin air, it seemed, the moment she had turned away to ask Severus a question. The table was set for four, and Rori had helped her get ready, prattling away the whole time.

For some reason Gretchen had found that settled her. This was odd, because she generally hated prattle. Rori was special, it seemed.

A knock came from the front door, and Severus asked Gretchen to answer it. He was sitting on the couch in the living room. Why he couldn't answer the door, she didn't know, but Gretchen moved from the kitchen anyway.

She was starting to get used to having her staff on her back in the harness and found the weight of it very... secure. It was interesting how simple it had been to get comfortable with the staff ... with all of this.

As she turned the knob and let the door swing open, Gretchen stepped around it. Looking up at the visitor, she said, “Draco Malfoy!"

Severus had said they were having a special guest to celebrate her first full week back in the Wizarding world, but she never would have thought it would be _'Draco Malfoy'_. She gaped at him for a moment and then snapped her jaw shut.

He seemed to take that as his cue to move, because he flattened his hand on his chest and bowed a bit toward her. "And you are?"

"Gretchen Jones." She extended her hand. Gretchen didn't want to give Draco Malfoy any sort of satisfaction by being discourteous, although she wasn't sure why. Then she watched as his lips pursed, making his chin look even pointier.

He was the most sour-looking man she'd ever met.

Draco took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he twisted it and kissed the back of her knuckles. "I was hoping you'd say 'Hermione Granger' so I could lord it over Potty."

Gretchen removed her hand from his as soon as was polite, moving into the open doorway and pulling the door closer to her body. She did not want to let Draco Malfoy into the house. After a moment, Severus slid his hand over her shoulder, squeezing her gently.

His palm was warm, and Gretchen felt her muscles relax. Severus was easing her out of the doorway, though. She had to assume that Draco Malfoy was the expected guest for dinner.

Severus inclined his head toward the man at the door and said, "You're the first person she's known on sight; that should be more than enough."

"It will have to do, I suppose." Draco came in and shrugged off his cloak. It was a casual gesture, but it made Gretchen narrow her eyes. Then, he tossed it toward the hooks on the wall, and it floated away from him, arranging itself nicely upon landing.

The three of them stood near the closed door, each waiting to see what the others were about to do. Only when Rori called from the kitchen did they break apart.

"Draco?" Rori asked, poking her head out. Then she hurried into the room, arms already outstretched.

"No, sweetie." Gretchen darted forward, pulling Rori behind her body. She needed to be between the girl and Draco Malfoy. "Stay away from him."

Rori started to protest, but Draco Malfoy leaned so he could look around Gretchen's body and signalled for her to quiet. His move irritated Gretchen, but she didn't want to do anything too bold... yet.

An evil smile spread across his face. "Oh, it's too late, Jones. I've been helping Severus with Rori since Granger disappeared. Nine years, I've been here for her." Draco Malfoy took a step back and adjusted his posture so that he was standing very rigidly on his feet. His nose rose into the air.

Severus moved toward the girl, and Gretchen frowned. How could he let _Draco Malfoy_ near his precious daughter?

Draco chimed in again, saying, “It's fine, Rori. Gretchen knows all about me. She remembers."

"Go back to the kitchen, Rori." Gretchen turned and pointed toward the doorway.

Rori glanced at her father and then did as she was told.

When Rori was gone, Gretchen turned back and scowled. "Severus, why do I remember him?"

"Anger and fear are very powerful emotions, Gretchen, and much easier to tap into than happiness. Hermione and Draco have a sordid history. Do you remember why?"

Gretchen put her hands on her hips and let herself take in Draco Malfoy. His mouth, his horrid, pointy mouth stuck out in her mind. "A word."

Severus stepped closer to them, and Gretchen looked up at his face. He was nodding, and she thought that was a good sign, encouraging. However, she was less at ease than she had been in the last eight days, and for the first time, having Severus beside her did not seem to be helping.

He pulled out his wand and said, " _Muffliato_."

Draco Malfoy approached her again and loomed over her. He was using his greater height and weight to his advantage. Gretchen wanted to step back, if only to keep from craning her neck, but she stood her ground.

"What word, _Gretchen_?" He sneered down at her.

The next thing she knew, Severus was pushing her arm toward her staff, and she pulled it out of the harness with her left hand. The smooth wood slid across her palm until she found the grip, and then she had it loose, a third point of contact for her and the floor. Gretchen immediately felt better, but Draco Malfoy was still invading her space.

Something was happening inside her, but she couldn't name it. It was as if something was coming, something thrilling, but she could not imagine what it might be.

In front of her, Draco Malfoy let his head drop down. "I should have known she wouldn't know. _They_ never do."

"What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?"

"I wouldn't expect the likes of you to get it, stupid Mudblood."

The next thing Gretchen knew, her hand was stinging from the hard slap she had delivered across Draco Malfoy's face. It felt so good, _so, so good_! It was just like that time in third year.

She hadn't realised she was speaking her thoughts until Draco Malfoy exclaimed, "Yes! Third year!" He smiled at her despite the hand print growing pink on his cheek.

The sight of his happiness at being struck jarred Gretchen. She didn't think that it was normal to celebrate getting hit in the face. Her brow furrowed.

Then Draco Malfoy seemed to pick up on the change in her mood. "You self-important cow!" he bellowed, throwing his hands out to either side. "How dare _you_ lay a hand on _me_!"

Another wave of... _something_ came over her. "He was innocent! And you were going to..." Gretchen turned away from the two men, wracking her brain for what had happened. She licked her lips and turned her hand over again and again. Something bad was going to happen to someone, and Draco Malfoy had done something...

_Fuck!_ She'd lost it! She turned back to them and saw them watching her, waiting. She threw her free hand into the air, eyes darting between the two of them. "Don't you dare say a bloody thing! I'll remember it myself, thank you!" She turned toward the kitchen, sliding her staff back in the harness as she went.

" _Finite Incantatem_."

Just as she passed the green couch, Draco Malfoy cleared his throat. "You know, erm, Gretchen, we sort of became friends while Hermione was pregnant. Not best mates like Potty and the Weasel, of course, but she and I buried the hatchet."

Spinning on her heel, Gretchen turned to look at him, with her hands on her hips. "If you're really my friend, Draco Malfoy, you'll let me hate you for as long as I want. This is the _closest_ I've ever got to remembering something, and you're not going to take that away from me!"

Then she turned back to the kitchen. Inside, Rori was sitting in her chair looking sullen and fiddling with her napkin.

Gretchen touched her shoulder. The security she had lost in the other room swept back over her, and Gretchen just had to get closer to Rori. Then her hands were cradling the girl’s chin, and she had no idea what she was doing, invading this girl's personal space and bringing her closer still.

Rori just accepted it, although her eyes closed for a long moment. When she opened them again, Gretchen thought she could see something in them, devotion perhaps.

Not wanting to hurt Rori by denying her, Gretchen asked, "Has he ever done anything mean to you? Said one single thing, Rori?"

She shook her head as hard and fast as she could. Maybe Draco Malfoy was Rori's friend. Gretchen thought it was possible that he had been hers, too, although everything about him set her on edge now. It was as plausible as any of this, at least. Taking a deep breath, Gretchen said, "Okay, go and say hello."

"Really?"

Gretchen nodded. "Of course."

Rori was off like a shot, leaving Gretchen to fiddle with the napkin as she waited for the others to come into the kitchen.

* * *

Severus watched as Draco squatted down to take Rori into his arms. Hugs were something that Draco only did for children, and they had started with Rori.

Draco and his peers hadn't started having their own children until Rori was almost five, but she had thoroughly schooled him on what small children liked and wanted. This included a lot of spinning around and a lot of being held securely. If Draco's father had done those things with him at all, it had ended at a very early age, so Draco had had quite a lot to learn.

"I apologise for scaring you, Aurora," Draco said into her ear.

She just squeezed him tighter. Severus knew that Rori liked Draco just as much as any of Hermione's other contemporaries, save Potter and Weasley. However, Draco had not cared to try to make peace with them, and thus was not often present at gatherings such as Rori's birthday party last Saturday.

"Thank you for the prezzies, Draco. I started writing in the journal you gave me, and the blanket from Oslo is on my bed now."

"You are most welcome," he replied and stood up. "Now, Aurora, we have to talk about me and Gretchen."

"I heard what you said about you and my mum, and I heard what Gretchen said."

Severus opened his mouth, but Draco carried on, saying, "Yes, and Gretchen is perfectly right. I would rather never be friends with her again if it meant I was helping her remember things. She certainly has plenty of reasons not to be my friend."

"Because you were bad when you were a boy."

"Very bad. Especially to Hermione Granger."

Rori moved closer to Severus, and he watched as she worked out the best way to express her next thoughts. Her lips smacked together a few times, although it was nearly silent. "What if she won't let me see you anymore?"

"Well, we would have to respect that. But I don't think that's what will happen."

She must have been very nervous, because Rori, who was normally a very calm child, began to fidget with the hem of her shirt, avoiding Draco's eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, she certainly doesn't like me now, but she still let you come and see me. She didn't throw me out, did she?"

Rori shook her head and took a deep breath.

"Dinner is on the table," Severus said, hoping to divert Rori from her grim line of thought.

Draco flourished his arm, inviting Rori to precede him out of the sitting room. Severus followed, finding Gretchen leaning on the counter with her arms crossed. Her staff was hooked over what had come to be _her_ chair. "Severus, I need your help."

"Of course; would you like to come and sit, first?"

Her chin jutted forward, and she stared at the ceiling. "In a moment. I would like to discuss something. You said this was a special dinner, and you invited _Draco Malfoy_. You have misrepresented this event."

"I have to disagree. Recognising someone from your past is significant for you. Today is a special day precisely _because_ Draco Malfoy is here."

She didn't answer right away, mulling it over and leaning her head from side to side a couple times. Then, she said, "Fine, I can accept that. However, I am... experiencing something. Two things actually."

"Frustration," Draco said as Severus replied, "Betrayal."

Severus watched as Gretchen took these words and weighed them. She must have known the dictionary definition of them, because after a moment she began to nod her head.

"Why betrayal, Dad?" Rori slid into her chair and waved Gretchen over.

Severus watched as Gretchen did Rori's bidding, stroking her staff, almost as if she were petting a cat, before she sat. "Betrayal because she wasn't expecting me to prod her memory in uncomfortable places. Frustration because she can't remember the name of something –"

"Buckbeak."

Everyone at the table turned to look at Gretchen, who had just announced the name she couldn't find just minutes before. Careful to ensure that she remembered that she had remembered, Severus asked, "I'm sorry?"

Gretchen unfolded her napkin and laid it in her lap. "Buckbeak. He's not a person, but some sort of animal with some sort of bird’s head."

"He's a bloody menace." Draco flicked his wand at the water pitcher, setting it to fill everyone's glasses.

Severus set the dishes to serving themselves as well before sitting back. Gretchen hadn't seen much magic in action, and he wanted to watch her as she saw the simple spell go to work.

Her face was pink, and she was grinding her teeth. It was clear that Draco was irritating her with his manner. Good. Then Rori started to tell the story of Buckbeak, but Severus cut in. "No stories at the table, please. Gretchen will probably remember on her own, so we shouldn't spoil it."

"Good." Draco began cutting his meat.

"No matter what a whiny ickle boy Draco is in the story."

That comment earned Severus a glare from across the table. Rori giggled, and Draco gave her one of his haughtiest looks, but that just made Rori giggle harder. Soon, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and everyone, Gretchen included, was smiling as they began dinner.

Severus watched as Rori took control of the table, first by being polite and asking for this or that. Then she told Gretchen a story about when she and Severus had gone to Moscow. This was followed by asking after Draco's father, to which he replied, "He is doing better than the Ministry had hoped."

Rori leaned toward Gretchen and said, "Draco's father has been banished to Muggle London in an attempt to rehabilitate him."

"Information I do not believe I gave my daughter," Severus replied. The hard look he sent Rori's way did little to faze her. "Where did you hear about this?"

With a shrug, she said, "It was in the Prophet, Dad."

"Worthless rag," Gretchen muttered. Draco looked at her, but she didn't seem to realise what she'd said.

"Very well, I would like a report on the happenings of _Lucien Malphred_."

This got Gretchen's attention. "Lucien Malphred is your _father_?"

Pushing his plate away, Draco frowned. "He is."

"So, he's a wizard? Or are your parents Muggle, too?"

This caused Draco to cough on his drink of water. As he sputtered and slapped his hand on the table, Severus tapped Gretchen on the shoulder. "You don't understand what he called you in the other room?"

"You mean 'stu-"

Severus cut her off with a shake of his finger. "Neither that word nor the other word are acceptable language in this house." He tilted his head toward Rori, who was now looking very put out about being excluded. With her head on her hand, she stabbed at her dinner. "Head up, Aurora."

She scowled but obeyed. She was just about to speak when Draco, with the grace of someone trained in diversion asked, "My father is a wizard; however, he has moved to Muggle London as something of a social experiment. I'm terribly interested in what you know about him."

"Not much, really. People have been raving about his restaurant for years, but I never saw the point in going." Gretchen paused to chew, and then frowned at the centre of the table. "Eight or nine years ago, he went bankrupt, but was able to buy a little restaurant. He built it up and up, and now he's got one of the premier spots in Knightsbridge. All of the society people go there and politicians."

"Nine years ago you say?" Severus asked as he loaded his fork.

Gretchen turned her frown on him, and it turned to a scowl. "Are you intending to imply that Lucien Malphred has something to do with me?"

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Severus took a bite of food. He locked eyes with Gretchen and gave her a blank look as he chewed.

She looked back at him, taking a few slow breaths before she said, "Every door I open leads to ten more." Then she looked around the table. With a sigh, Gretchen excused herself, grabbing her staff from behind her chair as she went.

"Can I go, too, Dad?"

A look at Rori's plate showed she had eaten a fair amount. He nodded and said, "Do not seek her out, Rori. She'll come to you when she's ready."

"But-"

Lifting his eyebrow, Severus quelled his daughter's protest. She took a deep breath and spun around, her posture curved as if her life were tragic and unfair. She didn't stomp her feet, but only because she knew her father wouldn't allow it.

When he was finally alone with Draco, Severus cracked his neck. "Lucius Malfoy, a Muggle."

Both men gave a rueful chuckle. Draco pulled a metal tube from his shirt pocket, shaking out a thin cigar and offering it to Severus.

After considering, Severus accepted, moving to Rori's chair so the two men could smoke together. He cast a spell over the table and one on the kitchen window to help ventilate the room.

"Do you think she's got the patience, the perseverance, Severus?"

"Hermione certainly does."

"She's _not_ Hermione, Severus," Draco said. He had been one of the few people involved who was not optimistic about reconciling Gretchen and Hermione. He had wished Severus the best fortune and used Malfoy contacts to get him into exclusive libraries, all the time saying it couldn't be done.

Severus took a long, smooth drag from the cigar. He held his breath a moment, feeling the delicious burn in his lungs, and said, "I don't know any other witch who would lay a hand to that pretty-boy face of yours." Curls of smoke came from his nose as he chuckled.

Draco rolled his eyes and rubbed his jaw. "Luckily for me."

"I'm sure your wife will be able to tend to your wounds."

"Perhaps I should let Gretchen practice fisticuffs on me. My wife certainly makes an excellent nurse." Draco conjured a flat glass ash tray, and rolled the ash off the end of his cigar. When he was finished, he said, "It's been a long time since I said _that_ word."

Another drag, and Severus replied, "I know. You are not the wretched little prig you once were."

"I'll say it a thousand more times if it helps."

"I don't think that will be necessary."

The silence stretched out as the cigars burnt down. Then, Severus felt Draco's toe nudge his own under the table. "You know, Rori is always welcome to stay with us if she needs a change. Scorpius is devoted to her. You’re welcome, too."

Severus nodded and raised his chin in understanding. "We should find Gretchen and Rori."

"I'll check on your daughter. I should leave soon anyway."

Extinguishing their cigars, Severus and Draco peered into the living room. The clock on the wall designated that Rori was 'cuddling'. That particular designation had not been on the clock earlier that day, but Severus was glad of its sudden appearance. Severus stood, and Draco followed him out of the kitchen.

Severus was quite pleased to find Rori and Gretchen curled together on the couch. Gretchen was fast asleep with her arm wrapped tight around Rori's belly. Circling the couch, he found Gretchen's staff on the floor.

Rori opened her eyes and whispered, "She invited me - I swear, Dad."

Draco leaned forward and kissed Rori's head. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. Then he shook Severus's hand, summoning his cloak from the rack. With one final wave, he was out the door.

Taking up his chair, Severus turned back to Rori. "You might be trapped there all night." He let his smile take on an edge until Rori stuck her tongue out at him.

"You know, this would be the perfect time to watch telly, Dad."

Severus, shark-like smile still in place, shook his head. A flick of his wand sent a book to Rori on the couch. She caught it and rolled her eyes. Still, within moments her nose was buried between the pages. Severus then Summoned a book for himself, ready for a quiet night at home.


	11. Chapter 10

Gretchen was standing alone in the field where she did her daily practice with Albus. Her staff was out, gripped in her left hand as had become her habit. A few days had passed since Draco Malfoy had been to the house, and Severus had kept things calm and quiet for her since then. No guests had come by, and they had done little around the house besides read and play cards, taking the occasional walk around the lake when they were feeling restless.

Severus had said that today they would be adding a new link to the chain. Gretchen wasn’t sure what this meant, but here she was, out in the middle of nowhere as the cold wind blew past her.

It was only a few minutes later when Gretchen spotted something coming from within the forest. It was tall and grey and loped forward with a heavy gait. As it approached, she saw Harry and Ron walking beside it. When they noticed her, they waved their arms over their heads.

When they were closer, she could see them smiling at her, as if they were truly excited to see her. That was not something that Gretchen had experienced much of. People were nice to her, but she had never really felt _wanted_. It was clear that Harry and Ron _wanted_ to see her. She decided that she liked being wanted and she hoped they would continue to want to see her in the future.

The beast walking beside them paused a short distance before her. It was huge! The head of an eagle was turning and looking at her. It snapped its beak a couple of times, and the front... talons, it seemed, dug at the grass.

"Buckbeak?" Gretchen asked, head bowing forward as she tried to look him over.

"Right in one," Ron said. He smiled at her with unrestrained pride.

Gretchen stared at Ron for a moment, wondering what the man saw when he looked at her. Compared to Harry, he was clearly excited. His body leaned forward a bit every so often. What had Ron been like when he was her friend?

Her attention was pulled back to Buckbeak who was walking forward towards Gretchen. Her heart began to pound in her chest. She couldn't guess what he was about to do, and something in her brain was setting off an alarm. The closer Buckbeak came, the larger he appeared. The slope of his beak seemed sharper every moment. Gretchen was scared. She was absolutely frightened. She was just about to turn and run when Buckbeak stopped in front of her and moved to sit on the ground.

It was not a graceful landing, by any means. Soon the horse-ish back legs were tucked under his body, and the talon-like claws were bent in front of him. Then he blinked at Gretchen and his head dipped forward as if he meant to nuzzle her.

"Go ahead, give him a rub," Harry said as he and Ron moved around Buckbeak toward her. They appeared to be giving his hind legs a wide berth.

So Gretchen stepped forward, letting her staff move beside her left foot as she extended her right hand. Soon it was sliding over the rock-hard beak and through silken feathers. In front of her, Buckbeak let out a quiet coo, and soon he was rubbing his face against the front of her cloak.

"I've never seen him do _that_ before," Harry said, his voice quiet.

"She saved his life; of course he knows her," Ron said as he came around behind Gretchen.

"I _did_ save his life." Gretchen was now wrapping her arms around Buckbeak’s neck. She loved the feel of his feathers stroking her arms, tickling her until it felt as if all her hair was standing on end. "It was terrifying." She missed the look the men shared, having moved to slide her cheek along the smooth beak. Even Buckbeak's breath was tolerable, if only for a moment.

"Oh, really?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Harry, you remember. We crept out to the pumpkin patch behind Hagrid's and undid the chain just in the nick of time. And then we got on his back and flew away."

"Right. I do remember that. I can't even believe what happened next."

Gretchen blinked. She didn't remember anything after that. Clearly, they must have done _something_. She looked up at Harry and shook her head. Watching his face fall as he gathered her meaning, Gretchen turned back to Buckbeak, rubbing her cheek, now, on the feathers on his neck.

"'S nothing to worry about, Gretchen," Ron said, setting his hand on her back. "You got the first part, and that's something." Then he rubbed his hand over her back. Before she knew it, there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gretchen froze and then buried her face in Buckbeak's feathers. For some reason she didn't want Harry or Ron to see that she was crying. She had no idea _why_ she was crying, only that being with them like this seemed to wring her out.

"Sh, sh..." Ron said, and Gretchen felt the hand on her back press harder, flat except when it passed over her staff's harness. "There's a lot in there that's got to come out. It can't all come out at once."

Then Gretchen felt a hand stroking her hair, and Harry was sitting closer on her other side. She felt enclosed by them but in a safe way. It wasn't much longer before her tears slowed, but Gretchen longed to stretch the moment out as long as she could.

There was something about being here with them that was settling. Harry passed her a handkerchief and she mopped up her face a bit. "Thanks. Sorry."

Harry sprang to his feet, then. "Sorry for what? Anyway, I have an idea about how we can help you remember. Want to go for a ride?"

"What, you mean _on_ him?" Gretchen pushed away from Buckbeak; she was _not_ interested in that proposition.

"Of course, on him. As long as you don't kick him too hard or pull his feathers, he's happy to. For you, especially."

"Well, I ... I just couldn't. That's hardly safe, there's not even a saddle or anything."

Ron leaned over to her, then, and said, "You aren't afraid, are you?"

"Well, I -"

By then Harry was already climbing onto Buckbeak, legs straddling his back just behind his wings. "Come on, I'll hold you."

Ron was urging Gretchen up from behind, her arms in his hands. "I'll ride in front; you can hold onto me."

The next moment Gretchen found herself sandwiched between Ron and Harry, Harry having to hold her staff still to keep it from knocking against his chin while in its harness. Her arms were tight around Ron, and Harry was holding her around her belly with his free hand. Then she felt the jerky motion of Buckbeak rising to his feet and jostling back and forth. He walked forward, increasing in speed as his wings flapped faster and faster, and then Gretchen was shrieking as they flew into the sky, higher and higher as Harry and Ron screamed and laughed around her.

* * *

Gretchen wasn't sure if it was hours or minutes later, but Buckbeak had done enough laps around the castle, which Harry reminded her was called Hogwarts, for her to pry her eyes open and look at the scene. It took her breath away, all of it did, and then Buckbeak landed in front of Severus's cottage where he was waiting for them on the steps. Severus looked rather put out.

"You're late. Get inside before we have to wait for you any longer, _Potter_."

Gretchen turned back to look at Harry, who was scowling at Snape. Gretchen turned back to Snape, and he looked just like he always had: lank black hair, sallow skin, black teaching robes buttoned from right under his chin all the way down.

"I'm going to inform the headmaster about this, _Potter_ , and you and your little friends will be facing a good deal more trouble than _detention_."

Stepping forward, Harry said, "Hagrid's a professor, too, _Snape_."

Lunging forward, Gretchen grabbed Harry's hand. "Don't, Harry. It'll only make it worse."

"What could be worse than detention?" Harry asked as he turned.

"I don't know! He could take away Hogsmeade visits or something," she replied with hushed urgency.

Harry smiled then and took Gretchen up in his arms. As he spun her, Gretchen realised she had been remembering, and she laughed and tightened her arms around Harry's shoulders. Harry set her down after a moment, and she stepped towards Ron. He had to bend down a bit, but he took her into his arms as well, lifting her straight up off her toes.

They held each other for a moment, and then Ron set her back down. "Very impressive day, I think."

Gretchen looked between Harry and Ron and smiled. "Thanks, boys. And you too Buckbeak." She bowed to him, watching as his head dropped down a bit. It made her heart skip, but she hoped she would learn to deal with it. Finally, she turned towards Severus, who looked very different now. He was wearing the same robes, of course, but his skin had lost its yellow pallor, and his cheeks had filled in. His hair looked soft again, not at all greasy.

He walked forward and put his hand on her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

Opening her mouth to reply, Gretchen couldn't stop the yawn that came from nowhere. It was quite big, and her elbows lifted and stretched out beside her.

"I think that's enough for the day," Severus said.

A quick look to Harry and Ron and Gretchen could see that they were disappointed. She felt something like that, too, she thought.

As if hearing her thoughts, Severus said, "Well, tomorrow is another day. Perhaps if you are up to it, Potter and Weasley can return tomorrow."

That seemed to cheer the boys, and Gretchen felt better. They said their good-byes, and Gretchen and Severus went inside the cottage.

* * *

"What are the odds that you are feeling studious, Gretchen?"

Severus watched as her chin lifted away from where she'd been staring into space. A bit of tea and fruit had refreshed her, and now he wanted to get to the bottom to something that had been bothering him.

She smiled and said, "I'm always ready for that."

"Quite right." Severus then presented her with a rune lexicon, and a long sheet of runes. Last night, after she'd gone to bed, Severus had taken a rubbing of her staff. She still did not seem to notice the inscriptions there, and it niggled at his senses whenever he thought about it. "I have some translation work I'd like you to do. You may use the kitchen table or my desk if you like."

Her hands were around the book before he'd even finished speaking, and she leaned back on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she went.

"Don't you want the work?" Severus asked, extending his arm to show her the parchment.

She just shook her head and said, "I will want to have a base knowledge first, to avoid false starts."

She didn't even look interested in the length of runes he held out. Part of him thought that her response was reasonable, but Severus was curious about how little she seemed to care about it, let alone that she had yet to remark on the changes on her staff. He set the sheet on the coffee table and excused himself, although Gretchen was already focused on the book in her hands.

Mounting the stairs, Severus went to check on Rori. She had been tasked with putting her clean laundry in her wardrobe, her least favourite chore. Severus shook his head, thinking about how quickly she could have it done if she simply _did_ it. However, true to form, when Severus got up to her room, Rori was lying on her bed with some of her folded clothes right by her elbow.

Her feet bounced back and forth as she turned the page of a book. Severus cleared his throat, announcing his presence before leaning against the door jamb. "You have ninety seconds to finish your chore." Then he conjured an hourglass and turned it so the sands began to fall.

"What? Dad! That's not fair!"

"Time is passing, Aurora."

Quick as a flash, she was up and hanging blouses in her wardrobe. Then, trousers disappeared inside drawers, and her bed was clear. When she finished, she turned and glared at him, hands on her hips. It was a position Hermione had taken on many an occasion, and as always, he had to keep himself calm when Rori did it. "Thank you."

"I can do it myself, Dad."

Severus crossed the threshold and took a seat on Rori's bed. "Clearly not. It should not take two hours to put away two weeks' worth of laundry."

"Well, it's my laundry to put away. Also, I can't see why it's okay to have house-elves wash our clothes, only for them to leave half the job and not put them away."

"It's about personal responsibility." Severus turned toward her as she mimicked his words 'personal responsibility'. He took a deep breath. He loved his daughter and knew her to be an exceptional young girl. Still, she could be as tedious and arrogant as any of the spiteful little tossers he'd had the misfortune of educating over the years. Luckily, she was clever enough to realise when she over-stepped. Severus held her gaze for a moment.

"Sorry," Rori said, ducking her head as she moved to sit beside him.

"Thank you." Severus looked around Rori's room. "You can see the runes on Gretchen's staff, correct?"

"Yeah."

Severus rubbed his forehead. "Gretchen is completely unaware of them. It makes no sense."

"Maybe it's Mum trying to tell us something."

"Perhaps."

Rori lay down, her head moving to Severus's thigh, and she looked up at him. "You're frowning a lot."

"If you are inverted, does it not look like a smile?"

At that, Rori stuck out her tongue. Severus applied his fingertips to her belly and began tickling. "Impertinent scoundrel!"

Gales of laughter surrounded him, and Rori wriggled on her bed, trying to get away. He kept up for a few seconds but relented as her breathing became laboured. They smiled at each other for a few moments.

Then, Gretchen appeared at the door. Severus looked up at her, still smiling. Gretchen hesitated, and her eyebrows were turned up in confusion and perhaps something more. 

"Come in," Severus said and waved her over.

Gretchen followed his command. She walked around the bed and sat besides Rori, who quickly worked herself so that she could put her head on Gretchen's thigh and have her legs on Severus's.

"It sounded as if I was missing something." Gretchen spoke quietly, working her fingers through some of the loose hair on Rori's forehead.

Severus's heart pounded. She _had_ been missing something, the most important thing in the world. He was thrilled that she had answered the siren's call of Rori's laughter without hesitation. But, as all things were, this was a tenuous thread. Could it be spun? Could it be woven?

"Aurora managed to tidy up after only two hours. I think it was the quickest go on record."

"Dad!" Rori whined and pushed her feet away from him. This put Rori just where Severus wanted her, closer to Gretchen, closer to the target.

" _Most_ importantly, I think, is that we should now, as a group, decide about Hogsmeade."

"Right!" Rori sat up and turned toward Gretchen. "It's not nearly as neat as Diagon Alley, but it'll be interesting for _you_ to go back.

Severus watched as Gretchen became entranced once more. She was still pushing Rori's hair back from her face, and that smile was back, although much more subtle now.

"Hogsmeade is a treat when you are experiencing it for the first time. However, it is also small enough that odd behaviour would be noticed by the townspeople at once. We would not be able to use Polyjuice again. It would not do to have your Aunt Ginny remarking about Honeydukes, now would it?"

Rori groaned and fell forward. It was a stealthy move that put her arms around Gretchen's middle with her shoulders now in Gretchen's lap.

Gretchen flattened her legs on the bed and said, "What have you got in mind, then?"

"If you can be especially patient, I know of a place we can go when there is a requirement."

With a shrug and nod, Gretchen agreed. Severus smiled and nodded back before getting up to send an owl to the headmaster.


	12. Chapter 11

“Severus?” Gretchen asked as they settled in for the evening.

Rori was in bed, and as the weeks fell away, Gretchen and Severus had taken to moving directly to their bedroom and reading by the fire once Rori was tucked in. Severus was just selecting a book from his shelf when she interrupted him. He thought that she sounded nervous, if Gretchen was even capable of such a thing.

“Yes?” he answered, feeling whole awareness taking in the moment. Severus didn’t have to look at her to gather information.

In fact, looking at her could prove to be distracting, especially after she had readied herself for bed. Breasts untethered beneath an over-sized top, hair loosely collected away from her face, her quiet sighs and hums as she decompressed from her day: all made Severus impatient to have Hermione back.

“When _Malfoy_ was here...”

Severus smiled, then. It had taken her a long time to move to calling Draco ‘Malfoy’, as if the idea of ‘Draco Malfoy’ had had to be woven into her consciousness. Having found a book, Severus turned and sat in his chair across from Gretchen.

She was staring into the fire which blazed in the hearth. He cleared his throat and Gretchen looked up at him and said, “Stupid Mudblood.”

Adjusting his position in his chair, Severus put his book on the table.

“Yes.”

“You wouldn’t let me say that in front of Rori. The one is obviously a slur of some sort, but I don’t understand about ‘stupid’.”

“Really?” Severus sat back and placed his elbows on the armrests, pushing his fingertips together.

Gretchen wriggled in her chair as though she were uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Severus watched, letting the time unfold before them. She marked her page and closed her book, setting it on the table next to his. Then she sat forward, her elbows on her knees, her wrists loose. Her eyes turned up at him, beseeching.

“I would prefer that you remember on your own.”

“Damn it, Severus! I can’t remember it _all!_ Just tell me!”

Then she was standing in front of him. Her chin jutted out, her frustration and impatience were evident, and Severus was taken back to a time when she was so desperate for information, to be validated in his class.

“I’ll tell you about one. The other, you will have to figure out for yourself. Which will it be?”

In front of him, Gretchen fumed. Severus wasn’t certain if he should let her do that without her staff in hand, but she couldn’t use it as a crutch. She would have to stretch her legs, emotionally speaking.

“Fine. ‘Stupid.’ It seems like a stupid rule to have in the house.”

Severus watched her hair in the firelight bouncing softly as she gesticulated. “Hermione and I agreed that some words would be taboo in the house. She felt, based on her time as my student, that if our child heard me even imply that she was stupid, she would be demoralised.”

“Because you are so smart.” Gretchen turned to look at the fire.

Nodding, Severus watched as she worked to take in the information. “Hermione was clearly unaware of how condescending and cold _she_ could seem at times when other students did not catch on as readily as she did.”

“What?” Gretchen exclaimed, looking back at him as if he had called _her_ condescending and cold.

Like a shark smelling blood, Severus pressed on. “Oh, surely, Gretchen, you’ve spent enough time with Ronald Weasley to know how easy it is to become impatient with him, never mind Longbottom.”

“Are you calling my friends stupid?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m sure you are capable of making them feel inadequate without my assistance.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, maybe, just _maybe_ Mr Longbottom could have managed his own potions if you had kept your mouth shut and let him work on them by himself.”

“I was just trying to help!”

“And of course, it’s no wonder Weasley passed you over for someone who could manage to get her face out of a book and into a mirror long enough to see what she had to offer a young wizard.”

“So now you’re saying that I should be more like Lavender Brown? Is this what you’ve been teaching our daughter, Severus?”

Lavender Brown, who had gone to the continent to attend university and had not come back, had never been mentioned in Gretchen’s hearing, so Severus found himself, for the very first time, eager to hear that name. “It is quite obvious that Rori has no need to waste time in front of a mirror, not that she has any care to.”

“What has this got to do with our promise?”

“What promise?”

“About certain words in the house! Why are we even talking about this? I thought it was all settled.”

Severus looked at the woman across from him very closely. “What’s your name?”

She looked at him, frozen as if she’d been hexed.

Immediately, Severus felt as though he’d botched it. He imagined Hermione’s consciousness being sucked back into the core of this person as Gretchen struggled to hold on. “What are the other words?” he demanded, using his most impatient professor’s voice.

“Perfect. Stupid. Hate. Mudblood.” She put her fingers to her temples, bending over. She didn’t look like she was in pain, only as if she was listening for the smallest noise. “Severus, what’s happening?”

“Relax, it’s just a little episode. Breathe. Just breathe.”

“Hold me.”

Severus was on his feet, but instead of wrapping his arms around her, he moved toward her staff. “You just need this.”

“No!” She reached for him and grabbed his arm. “Hold me, please, Severus. I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m scared.”

Her fingers were like talons on his arm, and Severus wasn’t sure he could get away without losing any flesh. He did as she asked, pulling her body against his. One arm wrapped completely around her ribs under her arms. She was now clutching his old sleep shirt with both hands and holding her face against his chest. Severus wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, bending his wrist up until his fingers were in her hair.

“What have you to be scared of?” he whispered, hoping that his voice was as smooth as he wanted it to be.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what there is.” Her head dropped, rolling so she could press her other cheek against him. “Who am I?” she asked.

“You are a brave, intelligent woman. You’re indomitable.”

“Please, just hold me.”

Severus stood there, his arms full of this witch, and felt simultaneously thrilled and terrified. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest, although it was slowing now. After a long while, the tension in her body changed, and her weight sank into the floor. Severus began to pull his arms away, tilting his head to look down upon her.

Her head was tilted up, and her face was pink. Severus clamped down on the internal parts of him who asserted that this was his _wife_. One year of wedded ‘bliss’ did not make this witch his to have.

Unfortunately, she seemed to have read his mind. “Why don’t you kiss me? Why do we sleep in separate beds? How can you touch me and be unaffected?”

These in-between moments were torture for Severus. If she were Hermione, if she still wanted him, he would know what to do. If she were Gretchen – if she were not his wife, he would know what to do.

“This has nothing to do with me.” He pulled his arms back, finally, and took a step away from her. He took another step, twisting his body so he could reach her staff. “I will leave you to meditate while I check on Aurora. It has been a very long day.”

Her hand touched his as she moved to grip her staff. Severus looked up and their eyes met for just a moment before he moved from the room. When he returned nearly a half hour later, she was sound asleep... in _his_ bed.


	13. Chapter 12

This had been the strangest day of Gretchen’s life. With all that had happened in the past few weeks, that was saying something. After today’s practice session with Albus, something that seemed to lengthen the more they worked together, Harry had appeared right beside her out of nowhere. Then, with a twist of his arms around his shoulders, he’d disappeared again, reappearing the next moment looking as if it were great fun.

Gretchen had thought it was dizzying and had been more than pleased when Severus told Harry to stop showing off.

Harry had appeared disappointed, as if he’d expected whatever he was doing to be a trigger for her. This is what they were calling things now, ‘triggers’, if she was meant to remember something. ‘Links’ were the bits they set up for her, and she suspected that they determined what links to use from observing her ‘triggers’. If she hadn’t been so desperate to remember, she would never have allowed them set her up again and again.

“It’s an invisibility cloak,” Harry had explained.

When he placed it around Gretchen’s shoulders, her skin had tingled as if there was carbonation just underneath. Nevertheless, she had liked it; it had felt like putting on an old, comfy jumper. It hadn’t been as nice as when she got to lie in Severus’s bed, but it had been close.

Harry had refused to tell her why it was so nice for her, though, and Albus had proceeded to tell her that she’d be sneaking into the castle today, and that they couldn’t let the students see her, and that this was the best way.

They had walked up to the castle surrounded by a small crowd of people who were talking amongst themselves but not to her, which had been remarkably uncomfortable for Gretchen. They had continued inside of the castle, a first for her, but they had hurried her along through the silent halls. Then Harry had paced in front of a wall three times, saying, “We need to go to Hogsmeade Station,” as he did so.

Then a doorway had appeared, and once she’d entered, a plume of steam greeted Gretchen when she crossed the threshold. Gretchen had found herself at a railway station where the word ‘Hogsmeade’ had been posted in shining gold letters.

Standing there now, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was simply impossible that this could be _inside_ the castle.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”

Gretchen froze in her tracks. Hagrid was here. Whoever Hagrid was, he was here. With her heart pounding in her chest, Gretchen wove between the people at the train station.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”

She felt as if his voice was getting further and further away, but she finally broke free from the throngs of people. Gretchen couldn’t believe there were so many people in Hogsmeade. It was just a few shops and some cottages, after all!

Not paying attention to where she was headed now, Gretchen ran to catch up with Hagrid. Looking this way and that, she failed to notice a loose brick in the path. She stumbled forwards, completely out of control.

“Who’s that, now?” asked the impossibly gigantic man upon whom Gretchen had landed.

She thought to apologise immediately, but he hardly seemed to notice the impact. Instead she watched as a huge smile broke across his face, his teeth appearing in the centre of a massive beard, and his cheeks looking rosy where they could be seen.

“Well, if it isn’t H—“

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Hagrid looked as if he’d been about to say something he shouldn’t. That thought pleased Gretchen.

“I mean, er, that is to say... What’s your name, there, miss?” Hagrid tucked his hands behind his back and swayed softly on his heels.

She had no idea what to say. What _was_ her name? He was _Hagrid_ and she was...

Again, somewhere, someone in the crowd cleared his throat loudly, and Gretchen thought she saw Hagrid jump a bit, the ground shaking just a bit with him as he landed.

“Rubeus Hagrid,” he said, extending his hand to her to shake it.

She laughed. It looked as if he could fit practically her whole arm in his grasp if he chose. “Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”

“Right you are!” He beamed down at her, and she felt that he was an indulgent and generous soul. “Care to join me at the Thre—“

Someone behind them must surely have quite the sore throat, as often as they seemed to be trying to clear it. Gretchen looked behind her to see who it was, but where there had been a crowd of people, there were only a few on the path to Hogsmeade.

Beside her, Hagrid was waiting, watching her. She realised that she had missed Hagrid a great deal and found herself joining him without question. The two started to walk towards town, Gretchen using her staff as a walking stick.

* * *

Severus ground his teeth, following Hagrid and Hermione at a sufficient distance that he would be concealed from sight, but where his Extendable Ear would still pick up what they were saying. The latest version was more like a Muggle hearing aid, which was useful for reconnaissance. Hagrid had been a good friend to Severus, and Severus knew he cared deeply for Hermione, but he was something of a loose cannon and Severus did not want Hermione— _Gretchen_ to get too _excited_.

Within the first few minutes, Severus felt that he would have to resort to stinging hexes if Hagrid kept on as he was.

“Would you like to make a report now, Severus? You’ve made sure everyone else has consulted with me with prompt, thorough efficiency, and yet you yourself have yet to make it up to my office.”

Severus felt his temple throb. He did _not_ want to give Albus a bloody report! He _wanted_ to listen to what Hagrid and Gretchen were saying.

“Now, Severus, you and I both know that a debriefing is about more than sharing information,” Albus continued, drawing close enough that he could have laid his hand on Severus’s arm, although he hadn’t yet.

For the first time in a long time, Severus felt a rumble at the back of his throat, the sort of sound that had once made any first-years in earshot piss themselves. It seemed that Albus Dumbledore had the ability to draw out the worst of Severus’s temper with just a few words.

He had forgotten that. He had forgotten what it was like to do all of this careful, delicate work. Rori had helped him forget. Severus was astonished at how hard it was to kill bad habits. He cleared his throat and said, “Everything is going as well as we could have imagined.”

And that was true. Rori and Gretchen were getting on very well. The cottage felt full and happy. Every day, if he looked hard enough, Severus thought he could see the two parts weaving together, although he tried not to search. He didn’t want to depend on what he thought he was seeing; he wanted to see it finished.

“How are _you_ faring?” Albus asked, leaning on his staff as if he were a very old man.

Severus didn’t believe that for a minute. Since starting their practice, it was well-known that Albus Dumbledore was feeling invigorated, like a wizard in his eighties, not his hundreds.

But _that_ question! It was the one Severus liked least. Throughout his tenure as a double agent, this question had been the only acknowledgement, the only nod to the true nature of the work Severus was doing. It was a question that could drop him as easily as a breath could fell a house of cards. It was amazing how, even now, years after the fact, it shook him.

Time warped in that moment. How dare Albus use that against him when he needs to focus his attention on Gretchen and Hagrid! He was just about to tell Albus off, but the old man spoke again.

“I imagine that it is difficult for a wizard to see someone who simultaneously is and is not his wife, and that sharing a bed with her would stir a great tumult in the depths of his being.”

Severus stopped in his tracks, spinning to grab Albus’s shoulder, possibly more tightly than necessary. “You know very well that I do not share a bed with Gretchen Jones.”

Blue eyes stared up at him, and Albus waited before he replied. “Neville reported that she quite liked your bed after he left her there at the conclusion of his visit.”

“ _Longbottom_ put her there by mistake,” Severus growled. “Besides, that was weeks ago.”

“And she has not found her way back there in the interim?” Albus stared up at Severus.

It was obvious, then, that Albus had not forgotten how to weather the storms he stirred in Severus. Like a man against a raging tide, Albus stood with his heels planted in the path to Hogsmeade, his staff planted as well, staring at Severus.

Before Severus could speak, though, Albus said, “I know that you believe Rori is the key to resurrecting Hermione, Severus, and that is probably true. You forget, though, that you are her husband, ever-faithful. Hermione Granger would not discount such a thing. If you think she would return for Rori alone, I believe you are quite mistaken.”

Clenching his fingers into Albus’s shoulder, Severus felt his guts roil inside him. Then he let go, turning away. “You are the single most infuriating wizard I have ever met.”

“Thank you.”

Around them, though, the room began to change. The way to Hogsmeade seemed to fade, and the room became a vast hall inhabited only by Severus, Albus, and Hagrid, who was standing at the far end.

“Where is Gretchen?” Severus bellowed at Hagrid, who flinched, spilling a bit of what looked to be butter beer. Severus stormed forward, eyes snapping around the room.

“I dunno. We went to Honeydukes and then to Rosmerta’s an’ she had half a butterbeer before she got up.”

Hagrid looked just as he did years ago, when he’d told Severus and Albus about how he’d let it slip to the _Golden Bloody Trio_ how to get past his bloody three-headed dog.

Severus reigned in his temper. “Well, she can’t possibly have left the school. What do we know about Hogsmeade and the school?”

Smiling, Albus said, “There are numerous secret routes between them, if you recall.”

Severus pivoted on his heel, marching toward the door. As his robes turned and snapped around him, he only hoped that Hermione stayed with them long enough that he could bloody well throttle her for doing this to him.

* * *

“And then I remembered! Harry couldn’t go to Hogsmeade in the beginning, but he sneaked out once _using his invisibility cloak_ through the passage to Honeydukes! I was so excited. I had to see if I was right, so I walked out of Rosmerta’s and back to Honeydukes. Then into the store room and down the tunnel and I _was!_ I was right!” Gretchen pounded on Hagrid’s table in triumph.  
The cups clinked against their saucers. Hagrid and Harry and Severus and she were having a bit of tea at Hagrid’s house. Gretchen loved the feel of his old cottage; it was like something from a dream. Harry said that some of her dreams were memories, and she liked the idea so very much that she had hugged him when he said it.

It seemed like a most natural thing to do.

And Harry hugged her back, smiling and obviously pleased that she had done it. Severus just pursed his lips and looked away. Gretchen wasn’t sure how she felt about _that_. Amused, on the one hand, and confused on the other. Severus didn’t seem to be a hugger. Well, except when Rori did it, but she was his daughter. Although, when they had gone to Diagon Alley, he had said that embracing, while ‘not strictly required’, was not forbidden either.

She did like having him close. She liked it very much. He never responded to her the same way twice. Sometimes Gretchen thought that he was indulging her, like a person cooing to someone taking their first steps after a serious accident. Sometimes he tensed up, as if he didn’t know what to do. Sometimes, the best and worst times, he would hold her as well. Obviously, this was the best reaction, but it usually meant that something had happened, some incident. Gretchen was confused by those, and she hated not being clear about things.

A big yawn interrupted her train of thought, and her eyes darted to Severus. He took a long swallow before setting his cup on the table. Gretchen said, “Best not to over-exert.” It was a variation of the things Severus had been saying over the passing weeks. She watched his face, and his eyebrows lowered just a hair. His eyes, though, seemed to sparkle.

They started standing up, saying goodbyes, manoeuvring so that Gretchen and Severus could go, when she looked over at a specific spot. “Slugs.”

The others froze.

“Slugs.” She turned to look at them. Her eyes flitted between their faces. Severus watched her as if she were a slug herself, and he a hungry bird. Hagrid looked as if he wanted to distract her, as if he didn’t want to remember this with her. Harry, the furthest away but bold in her mind, pressed his lips together and hummed.

Then, she joined him. “M-m-m-Mudblood.” Like keys on a piano, blocks fell into place. “ _Malfoy_ called me a Mudblood, Ron tried to hex him, and we came to Hagrid’s.”

Harry smiled at her, sad but proud.

What a horrible thing to remember. But it was _hers_. It was _her_ horrible thing, and Ron and Harry and the others had defended her.

She felt heavy. “I’d like to go home now, Severus.”

“And so we shall.” They said their final goodbyes, and Severus came to wrap his arms around her. Her arms tightened around his chest too, and he _popped_ them out of the front of Hagrid’s place and _popped_ them right into their bedroom. She was relieved that Rori was at Harry’s house for the day; she could just walk over to the bed without a care for anything but herself.

Severus sat beside her for a long time. They were quiet, and it was nice. Then, she had to voice her biggest concern. “That’s not the worst thing Malfoy ever did, was it?”

“Not in the least, although Draco Malfoy is very small potatoes compared to any number of other antagonists in this story.” Severus scrubbed his scalp with his fingertips for a moment before turning to her. “You will recall that I asked you if you would want to know, even if it was the stuff of nightmares.”

She nodded.

“Would you like to go to your home now? Your quiet life is waiting for you; you can have a reprieve.”

The suggestion startled her. “Like bloody hell I will.” She couldn’t leave now, couldn’t imagine going back. “This is my home now. _Here!_ ” She pounded on the mattress below her. “How could you even ask that?”

“Just a litmus test, if you will.”

She nodded. “Would it be alright if I rest, then?” Before he could say ‘of course’, her head was on the pillow, smelling it deeply. She pulled the covers over her, and it felt like Severus was holding her, his scent invading her senses as she dropped off to sleep.


	14. Chapter 13

Severus sat at his desk, rolling an uninked quill between his fingers and thinking about _Gretchen Jones_. She had been in his house, had been _home,_ for some time now and while there had certainly been progress, it was not enough.

_What was holding her back?_

He closed his eyes and sighed. Impatience would not help them right now.

Honestly, for someone who had had no recollections for nearly a decade, she was doing quite well. The little bits and whole scenes all added up to immense achievements.

She was getting on with Rori, too, which was good. Rori was the key, of course. She could charm a snake out of its skin. Granted, Gretchen hesitated when it came to more parental obligations, but she had a sense of what was appropriate for a child like Rori.

_Let her fall in love, first._ There were some undeniable bits of Hermione in Rori. The curls, to start, and her facial structure. Rori was in that in-between phase where she certainly didn’t look like a small child, but she had yet to get swept up in the hormones of puberty.

Their temperaments were similar, as well. Gretchen and Rori had been known to sit on the couch for hours, each immersed in a book. Severus had caught them cuddling and whispering when they thought he wasn’t looking. Gretchen would stroke Rori’s hair, and Rori would gently explore Gretchen’s face with her fingers.

Severus hadn’t known what to do about that. Nothing, ultimately, since Gretchen seemed to like it. It was far below Rori’s developmental stage, but she had never had the opportunity to explore her mother as she had her father. Perhaps Gretchen did the same, exploring Rori as well.

Remembering Rori’s tiny fingertips on his own hooked nose made Severus smile, ever so slightly, to himself.

“Dad?”

Severus looked over at the door to his study, where Rori was poking her head through. “Yes, Aurora?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“I will be the judge of that,” he teased, watching his daughter shove the door open. It was amazing that she didn’t trip over her feet, as she was rolling her eyes quite dramatically. Compared to the little witch he’d been remembering, this Rori was an entirely different creature.

She flopped onto the chair on the opposite side of his desk, her heels kicking a moment before she settled. As always, she ran her fingers over the print of the chair until she found her favourite spot.

Since she was in _his_ reading chair, she wasn’t quite facing him, but that never seemed to bother her. If she wanted to look at him, she would turn, resting her head on one arm of the chair and her knees over the other.

“I was thinking about Mum.”

Severus folded his hands and rested his forearms on his desktop. “Please be more specific.”

“Mum who is inside.”

Nodding, Severus forced himself to be patient. Honestly, the hardest part of all of this was keeping Rori’s fantasies from running away with her. Severus needed her to be practical and level-headed in a way that no child could be.

If she had been ‘thinking’, it could just as easily have been a fantasy or a mad plot for getting Hermione out, if that were even possible. On the other hand, how could he force Rori just to pretend that her mother wasn’t in there when there had been so many instances that screamed that she _was_?

“You know how, when you’ve been bad, how it can be worse to tell?”

She was nervous, her heels kicking up again and bouncing against the underside of her seat. Severus swallowed, trying to hear a meaning beyond what Rori was trying to verbalise. “You mean the anticipation of consequences or embarrassment?”

“Yeah. That stuff.”

“Go on.”

Rori’s feet moved faster still, and her finger moved so fast over its mark that she had to pull it away and lace her fingers together with her own frustration. “It’s like, well, it’s bad, and you know it, but you could live with it, if it was just you knowing, but as soon as you try to say it, it’s harder; it’s worse.” Having got it all out, she froze for a moment, staring at her knees as she waited.

Severus pushed back from his desk and walked around to his reading chair. Despite some concern for his knees, he squatted in front of Rori and took her hands between his. “Are you suggesting that it is more comfortable for her to stay as she is, or that she is wary of trying to... come out because it is, at the very least, unpleasant for her?”

She didn’t look at him, but her feet bounced a couple of times. “I don’t know. Maybe both?”

“You are a very bright girl, Aurora.” Severus, levering himself up with the corner of the chair, kissed her forehead. “That is a very interesting idea, and now I want you to go and play.”

Rori hesitated, then, said, “I was planning to read.”

“Muggle books are fine, as long as they are _relaxing_.” Severus ruffled her hair and perched on the edge of his desk. Rori had a habit of getting lost in a book in the most intense way. She could immerse herself in a subject until it took over her entire world view. Whether it was toadstools or computers or, heaven forbid, anything about _television_ , the entire house would be sucked into it like a rowing boat in a whirlpool.

“Yes, Dad.” Rori slid out of the chair, and waved goodbye.

However, Severus grabbed her wrist when it came near, pulling her in to an embrace before he allowed her to leave the room.

* * *

It was shortly before dinner when Gretchen found Rori lingering in the door to her and Severus’s bedroom. Gretchen had been restless all day, and when she felt like that, she found that being near Severus’s things was the best way to find calm.

“Hello, miss,” Gretchen smiled, setting her book down on the table beside her chair. Well, _Severus’s_ chair. She loved the way his places smelled, even going as far as to make sure he showered before she did, so she could enjoy the after effects of his routine.

“Come to my room for a bit?” Rori asked. “I’m practicing with some of the make-up my Aunt Ginny gave me, and I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

Gretchen’s first inclination was to say that she probably wasn’t going to be very much help, but instead she nodded and followed Rori to her room. She brought her staff with her.

Once they were there, Rori sat Gretchen down on the bed and said, “First I want to practice on you, all right? Aunt Ginny said it’s easier to learn that way.”

“What are you going to do?” Gretchen asked. She didn’t usually let people bring pointed pencils or wands or things near her face as she valued her eyes very highly.

Rori dumped a bag between them on the bed. “Just... practice.” She didn’t look up at Gretchen, but started looking through the pile for what she wanted.

Gretchen picked up a couple of things to investigate what Rori had. She didn’t recognise any of the brand names, but they were clearly high end. “Ginny _gave_ you this stuff?” She hadn’t met Ginny yet, since Severus hadn’t worked out what sort of link or trigger such a meeting would be.

“She came over for my birthday and did my make-up, and then she left all this here. She said that she knew I wouldn’t waste it. She also said that my dad needed to be eased into me becoming a young woman.”

“And your father let you go to the party with your face all done up?”

“Well, none of the colours are too brash. Ginny said she’d give Dad a break, for now. She did it so it was subtle, and told me that if I practiced, I’d get it too. But it’s hard to see what I’m doing when I’m trying to look at me _and_ what I’m doing.”

“So you want me to be the guinea pig.”

“Is that okay?”

Finally, Gretchen voiced her concerns. “I’m not one for make-up, really, so I can’t give you any tips, but you can try on me. There’s time before dinner.”

Rori smiled. It was the sort of smile she wore sometimes when she was trying to convince Severus of something.

Gretchen was quite sure she didn’t know the whole plot. It didn’t stop her from letting Rori paint her face though. Gretchen was surprised at how much preparation Rori insisted on. First, a towelette to clear her skin, then a lotion. Then, lip colour, with exaggerated smashing together of her lips.

“Your skin is nice, so I won’t use any foundation.”

“Thank Merlin! Ginny always insisted I use it. As if I could use hers and not look pale as a ghost.”

“What?”

Smiling, Gretchen said, “Oh, she used to pester me sometimes, Rori! I would be at the Weasleys’, and Ginny was sort of desperate for another girl in the house. Her mum was always busy. Sometimes I thought she’d drive me mad. Then, Tonks started coming round, and she would do all this stuff with Ginny.”

“Who is Tonks?” Rori sat on her heels, watching with surprise plain on her face.

Looking at the little girl, she realised she was remembering. “I don’t know. Teddy’s mum.”

“What is _your_ name?” Rori was sharpening one of her pencils and looking at her hands.

After a long hesitation, the woman on the bed said, “I don’t know. Is that bad?”

The little girl looked up and said, “No. Close your eyes so I can do this.” She lifted up the pencil liner and nodded.

“Oh, good. I’m not very good at that,” she said and she closed her eyes.

“Ginny says my mum was rubbish at all this girl stuff. She talks about my mum a lot, and sometimes she cries.”

Opening one eye, the woman said, “It’s okay to cry when you miss someone. I think your aunt just wants you to know about your mum.”

“Do you miss her?” Rori asked, her voice wobbling a bit. She was carefully drawing a line, and most of her focus was on that.

“Very much. Sometimes it’s so hard to put up with Harry and Ron. Ginny knows what it’s like.”

“But you don’t cry.”

“Why would I cry?” Gretchen asked, pulling away from Rori as she moved to draw on her other eye.

“Because you miss my aunt.”

Gretchen frowned. “Did I say that?”

Rori nodded and sighed loudly. She sank down on the pillows. “You don’t remember.”

With a sigh, Gretchen scratched the back of her head with both hands. “Pretty hard to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t remember half of what they say. Did I upset you?”

“Do you remember anything?”

“Do I remember how Ginny used to save me from Lavender Brown’s make-up brushes only to turn her own upon me? Yes, I do. But that’s about it.” Gretchen reached forward and patted Rori’s knee. “C’mon, can’t leave me half done.”

That seemed to pull Rori out of her sulk, and Gretchen let her do full eye make-up. When they looked in the mirror, Gretchen was quite impressed with the little cat’s eye details. “Very nice. I don’t think you need any help from me. Not that I should be surprised. Your drawings are also very nice.”

Rori was putting all the tubes and things back in their case when Severus knocked, poking his head into the room. “Dinner, ladies.”

“You can go ahead. I need a minute to pick up my things.”

Gretchen, somewhat surprised that she’d been dismissed, grabbed her staff stepped toward the door. “Severus, I remembered something about Ginny.”

“Shall we invite her round for tea?”

“Yes, please.” Gretchen grabbed the banister and started downstairs. “But not for a couple of days, I think.”

“Very well,” Severus said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He glanced back to check that Rori wasn’t following him. “You look lovely.”

“Really? Rori was just practising.” Gretchen smiled and blinked. Severus didn’t usually pay her compliments or go out of his way to be _nice_. His way was much more subtle.

“Yes, practising for Slytherin House. What did she say to you?”

“That Ginny had given her make-up for her birthday and she needed to practice. It’s nice of you to let Ginny do those things.”

“When have you known me to be _nice_? I asked Ginevra to attend to those things Rori should learn from a witch.”

“Oh.” Gretchen looked at him and realised she was put off by the way he had out-sourced the role of ‘mother’.

“I suspect she is hoping that one of us will be seduced.”

Gretchen felt his gaze as his eyes drew down her body and up again. She blushed, unsure of what to do. Thoughts were roiling inside her; Severus had become a lot of things to her, some of which were not so easily defined.

Severus stepped closer and his chin dropped so that his mouth was not too far from her face. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want that, because I very much would. However, I feel it would complicate an already intricate situation.”

“What do you mean?” Gretchen asked. She angled her face up toward his, so they were almost cheek to cheek.

“You will realise, very soon I hope, something very important. When this realisation hits, it will test you. It will test your trust in me. It will test your emotional resilience. It will test your very self.”

“What? Why?” Gretchen froze for a moment. Part of her wanted to step back and demand that he just tell her now. The other part wanted to step into his body, pull his shirt between her fingers, and demand that he just tell her now. She wasn’t sure what to do.

“That is for you to work out on your own, Gretchen. I wouldn’t rob you of such an accomplishment. More importantly, though, is what we shall do about Rori. I suspect she will continue to try to ensnare us in this... romantic hope.”

“Should we act as though it is working?” Gretchen asked, half-hoping he would say yes. She suspected she wouldn’t have to do too much pretending.

“I believe it would be best to act naturally, but to be aware of the fact that she is trying to set us up.”

Gretchen nodded, and they heard the door to Rori’s room open. Severus gestured for Gretchen to proceed into the kitchen, which she did. As she sat down at the table and hooked her staff’s harness over the chair, she imagined that gears were clicking into place deep inside of her, and yet, there were still elements that weren’t moving together. Spreading her napkin over her lap, she tried to shake off the ominous tone of Severus’s comments. Looking up, she found that both he and Rori were watching her, wolfish anticipation evident on their faces.


	15. Chapter 14

Before he knew it, Severus found December half lost. As he stood in the kitchen sorting the post that had just arrived, he felt a headache bloom behind his eyes.

_How could he have forgotten_ Christmas _of all things?_

He knew, of course, that for those in the little cottage behind the castle, the world had narrowed down to three players, the rest be damned.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he and Rori hadn’t been travelling right up through most of December for the last five years. He had made sure they were home by the twentieth of course, no matter where they had been in the world: Spain, Russia, or Japan. Hermione’s parents demanded Rori’s presence for the actual holiday, and Potters and Weasleys had to be seen as well. Usually, they would come home from their travels to a big fresh tree courtesy of Hagrid and a crate of ornaments courtesy of the house-elves waiting in the sitting room.

He hadn’t actually told them otherwise, so perhaps they would hold to those usual dates. It would buy him some time, at least—four days to bring Gretchen up to speed and prepare her for her parents... And prepare her parents for _her_. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Her mother was desperate to know about her, but her father was more reserved. Severus could imagine his hesitation. If he had to look at Rori and treat her as anything less than the light of his life, he would be lost. To lose a child once was unimaginable, to lose the same child twice... 

Severus had a plan, of course. He hoped that Gretchen would be ready for it. There hadn’t been any notable developments for a few days, more than a week when he thought about it. Was she ready to go home? It was one thing to bring her to the cottage, a place she had never been. Severus remembered the sounds of cracking glass, her smoking wand, all of the power that she couldn’t contain. That had all been _here_ , where magic was safe: there were no electrical wires, no neighbours, and most importantly, there had been no history.

Hermione’s mother had made Hermione’s bedroom into a bit of a living museum. It helped Rori to know who her mother had been. She had played with some of Hermione’s old Muggle toys when she was very small. She would sit in Hermione’s childhood bed and read when she went to see her grandparents. It was an essential, invaluable connection for Rori. Hermione’s parents managed it carefully. They weren’t shaping her to be a replacement daughter; Rori had her own room in their home and her artworks and such had their own place on the icebox.

Still, as many parents who had lost their child had done, they kept a _sense_ of Hermione, their longing for her saturating the house. Could Gretchen walk through and keep her calm? Accidental magic had terrible effects on Muggle homes, and as practised as she may be, Gretchen was not always in control when under pressure.

Either way, the house was ready for her. Severus’s eyes flicked through the letter from her mother again, telling him everything was ready, and for that very afternoon, _as agreed_. He ground his teeth, swearing silently at himself for letting it slip his mind. _What was he going to do with Aurora for the afternoon?_

“Severus?”

He halted his self-recrimination as he thrust his arm out. His wand was trained on the fireplace now, where Albus’s glowing head looked out.

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“Am I correct in noting that you will be out of the house shortly? I was wondering if your daughter was available to spend the afternoon in the castle.”

Sometimes there was just _something_ in the way that man _breathed_ that made Severus want to take points. He cleared his throat and said, “I believe that may be arranged. Shall I—”

“Yes, excellent! Do send her through when you are ready. And don’t forget to dress Muggle.”

The fireplace flickered and was empty once more. Severus gripped his wand, lowering his elbow to his side with a marked restraint. _As if he hadn’t lived eleven years and six terrible summers as a bloody Muggle under his father’s roof..._

* * *

Gretchen felt strange, putting on denims and a cardigan, socks and boots, as if she was going out for a cuppa in London – not that she wandered about in witching-wear, but this felt like she was going on a wild adventure into reality. She was leaving Narnia after being queen these last few weeks.

She watched Rori hop into the fire-place and disappear. She still hadn’t decided which was more bizarre: to jump into a burning hearth or jump from one. _Or_ was it that a part of her thought it was perfectly normal, perfectly safe?

“Are you ready, then?” Severus asked, straightening her coat with a shake so he could help her with it.

Gretchen turned, allowing him to slide the sleeves up her arms and the collar up to her neck. His hands rested on her shoulders. “Ready for what?”

“We are trying something new; I’m taking you to a place you’ve been before, a place that’s very important to Hermione Granger.”

One hand left her body as he stretched for her staff where it leaned in the corner made by a bookshelf and the wall. He brought it around to her right side.

Gretchen turned, looking up at him, but the hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Where is it?”

“I want you to stay in front of me, facing out. I want it to be the first thing you see. If when we arrive, you want to investigate, you may. If you want to leave, we will. I will take you Side-Along, and I won’t let go of you until you are ready.”

“Why are you being so mysterious?” she asked, trying to turn again. He let her this time, but when she looked at him, he revealed nothing. “You’re making me feel... buzzy.”

“It is not a bad place,” he said in concession. “Quite the opposite, in fact. However, I have given the matter great consideration, and I can find no better solution.”

“Very well.” Gretchen sighed and turned on her heel. She waited for him to step up behind her, not at all reluctant to go anywhere with him Side-Along. The few times they had done so had been quite... moving.

Severus stepped forward, and she felt his hands slide down her arms and around her belly. He bent, slightly, to hold her close, and his breath was in her ear for just a moment before they popped away.

***

“Open your eyes. We’re here.”

She blinked and the world came into focus. Behind her, the familiar click-shut of her bedroom door sounded.

She was... _home_! Pulling away from Severus without even a thought, she moved across the room, _four steps!_ , and climbed onto her bed. George was there, in the centre, on the pillow. She picked up the worn, old monkey and clutched him to her breast. She rolled onto her back, and the familiar shadows of her canopy bed dusted the ceiling. She turned her head, and there was her telescope and the small drafting table she had set up to keep her star charts on. Turning the other way, bookshelves and her bureau and her desk and—

A strange pale man with lanky hair and a hooked nose. He had just bent down to pick up a staff.

Her staff.

“I’m going to vomit.”

“Ah-ah!” he chided, stepping forward and thrusting the beautiful, twisting staff in her direction.

The room spun around her, and her tongue tasted like she’d had too much cheap red wine. She reached out for the post of her canopy, but her hand wrapped around the staff instead.

“ _Beith_ ,” the man said. She _thought_ he was a man, although her mind swam, and from the corner of her eye, he looked like a great crow looming over her.

She goggled at him and put her hand over her mouth, still certain she was going to sick up.

“ _Beith_ ,” he reiterated, staring down at her now.

“ _Beith_ ,” she parroted back.

“Good! Now, _‘luis’_.”

“ _Luis._ ”

“ _Earn._ ” He encouraged her and stroked her hair.

" _Beith, luis, earn, saille, nuin, úath, duir, tinne, coll, ceirt, muin, gort, gétal, straif, ruis, ailm, onn, úr, edad, idad._ "

“There’s a girl.”

“Don’t patronise me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He was smiling down at her, now. He smiled in such a way, and she had missed it so much. She smiled back at him and kissed him, just a moment, on his mouth. Then she moved to curl up on her bed, George in one hand and her staff in the other.

She’d gotten a perfectly good night’s sleep last night, and yet she was utterly wrecked. Severus could go to her dad’s den and have a bit of whisky if he liked. She slept.

* * *

“Crooks?”

Severus was startled out of his reverie, ‘gazing’ around the neighbourhood with Hermione’s telescope, and bumped his nose on the eye piece. “Sh...”

“Severus? Where’s Crooks?”

The woman on the bed rubbed her eyes as she pushed herself to sit up. He had no idea who she was at the moment, and from the earlier display, he imagined she didn’t know either. If there was such a place as Purgatory, this was it. Hermione was here on gossamer strings of lucidity.

“I’m sorry, darling.”

“Why? What happened?” She rolled over the edge of the bed, moving to sit on his lap in the little slipper chair of her astronomy nook.

He couldn’t have been more relieved that she’d brought the staff on her own. This was definite middle ground, of that he could be sure.

She wrapped her free arm around his neck and looked at him, bracing herself for bad news.

“Close your eyes.”

He set his voice to a low rumble, hoping to guide her through this as gently as possible. She looked at him, puzzled, but closed her eyes. “Something happened to him.”

“I want you to close your eyes and consider... what is the date?”

Again, her face scrunched together a bit in confusion, and her head tossed. “Well, it’s—” She paused, taking a moment. Finally, she said, “It’s odd. I know that it’s Christmastime, but I’m not sure. I don’t know the year.”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

Silence drew out, and her body curled against his chest. When her cheek rested on his shoulder, she answered, “15 May. Because it was my birthday, but that can’t be right, as that’s not my birthday.”

“Your memory, as usual, is nearly perfect.”

She opened her eyes. “When did you get so grey?” Then she pushed her fingers through the hair on his temples.

_Russia._ Siberia in the winter! He would take Scotland any day of the week over being here and delivering this bit of news.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me. What year is it, darling?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. “Severus, it’s 2008. For a few more days, anyway.”

“It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Mr Crookshanks Silver-Whiskers, as your daughter liked to call him, passed away in 2003.”

Her shoulders sank and tears filled her eyes. Then she turned, clutching his jumper as her tears soaked into it. Severus wrapped his arms around her, careful not to jostle her staff. The half-kneazle had lived well after Hermione’s disappearance, to Rori’s delight and Severus’s consternation. The beast had watched Rori grow, stubbornly guarding her until shortly after Severus first met Gretchen in the bookshop.

Hermione had loved that cat, and now she was grieving for it, and it was a good, strong emotional connection, so Severus didn’t mind the sacrifice of his best casual Muggle shirt bearing the brunt of tears and more.

They sat there until her tears ebbed and she looked up at him with swollen eyes. “Who is Crookshanks Silver-Whiskers?”

Severus Summoned a picture from Hermione’s desk, catching it and passing it along. He nodded at the picture but held his tongue.

She knew what to do—this was an assignment, and she would reason it out. In the picture, Hermione was twelve, and she and Crookshanks, Potter and his owl, and Weasley and _bloody Pettigrew_ all looked out from the scene. It was a magical picture that Hermione had stilled so she could bring it home over the summer holiday.

She cleared her throat, holding the picture between them. “Well, obviously, he was my pet—no, familiar, right? That’s more than a pet, which Crooks was. And, he was smart too, because he always hated that rat that Ronald is holding, and he liked other people who were good even though they seemed bad.”

Severus snorted. It was an old teasing argument they had started somewhere between the nuptials and the conception. The cat had been unrepentantly unscrupulous when it came to Severus’s possessions, but Hermione had always defended him, saying it was only because Crooks liked him so much.

The minute stretched out, and they stayed as they were: he had one arm around her back, and she leaned against his chest, smiling at him.

An incautious man would have thought he’d had his wife back. “Tell me a secret?” It was another game, one she’d started when she couldn’t engage him in the usual interview conversations people had at the onset. The rule was: you had to whisper the question in the other person’s ear, giving the opportunity to divert with the more comfortable physical advance if you were unwilling to whisper something back.

She bit her lip, but then turned a bit on his thigh. She smiled and waited for him to elaborate.

“Who are you?” Severus whispered, his voice bending into her ear.

She inhaled deeply at his neck and whispered back, “I don’t know.”

_Purgatory._

With her head turned, he flicked his wand at the bedroom door, and the sound of jingle bells and Christmas crackers popping surprised her. She jumped off his thigh as if her parents had caught her with a boy in her room, but the door didn’t open.

“If you are feeling rested, there is much more to this lovely home than just your bedroom, Miss.”

It was her turn to scoff. “Miss? You make me sound like a school-girl.”

Through the door, a voice came up the stairs, “Sweetie, we’re home!”

Severus flicked his wand again, and bells and crackers sounded. Not as loud as before, but enough.

“Shit. I didn’t know. I didn’t know we were coming _here!_ Severus, I can’t—please!”

He stood and put his hands on Gretchen’s arms. Oh, yes—she was Gretchen again, Gretchen as he remembered her: sceptical and unsure, insecure certainly. Severus remembered her in her flat and on the couch as he shoved her through the Legilimency spell. She had yet to fail, though, and he wouldn’t let her start now.

“Of course you can, and you will. Don’t forget your staff.” Which she had, right between his legs when he first sounded the alert. He moved it in her direction, and she took hold of it as though it were her only hope.

“What if they don’t like me? What if I’m not good enough?”

“What if dragons come flying out my arse? Stop being ridiculous.”

“Bu—”

“What if you hadn’t liked Rori? What if she wasn’t good enough?” That idea hit home with her, and Gretchen looked up at him, aghast. “What if you went away to school and came back full of ideas and stories and marks they couldn’t conceive of? What if the first time you had PMS, you got in a terrible shouting match with your mother and took out the electricity on the whole block?”

Gretchen’s posture loosened, and she managed to pull a face to communicate just where he could put his hypotheticals.

Severus rubbed his hands up and down her arms and then squeezed her shoulders. “Remember when you first saw Rori? Remember how perfect it was even though it was so far from perfect?”

She nodded and moved toward the door. She had to move her staff to her left hand, but despite her obvious nerves, she pulled the door open, and walked through.

* * *

Gretchen could hear the bustle of bags being unloaded downstairs, and as she put her hand on the banister, she rustled the pine garland, releasing its scent into the air. She walked down the stairs with her hand smoothing over the warm fairy lights and bristling pine needles and felt like Christmas was finally coming alive for her again.

She hadn’t really celebrated the holidays since coming out of hospital. She had been alone in the apartment, so she’d never really seen the point.

The fairy lights were on in the sitting room as well, the tree waiting to be decorated with ornaments. Gretchen stopped at the bottom steps to watch an older man and woman bringing in bags of prezzies.

“Quick, dear, before she comes downstairs,” the man said. The woman nodded back, neither noticing Gretchen on the step.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Severus whispered in her ear. “You’re blocking the way.”

The woman turned around, twisting quickly only to catch herself on the sofa. “Severus?” Her tone was full of hope, and when she looked around, Gretchen felt like she wasn’t looking for Severus at all. Her hand moved to lie flat on her collar, and she just stood and stared at Gretchen. On the step, the young woman stared back, eventually lifting her hand in a small wave. They both stood there, each drinking the other in for a good while.

That was until the man came back, the last of the bundles heaved awkwardly in his hands. He carried them around the sofa and arranged them, possibly in some order, around a low table. When he had his things settled, he looked up to speak with his wife, and seeing her as she was, looked up and found his daughter on the stair as well.

He cleared his throat as if to speak, and it broke the spell. “Well, look who’s here!” he said and smiled.

Gretchen felt Severus’s hand on her lower back, and he began guiding her forward. Using her staff for a bit of balance, she walked forward between the tree and a low-backed chair.

“Introductions?” Severus offered, but the woman was already moving through the bags to wrap her arms around Gretchen.

Gretchen returned the embrace, and then Severus forfeited her to the man as well. She weathered the tide of sniffles and hugs, being passed back and forth and back again. Being surrounded in so much... _affection_ would have been impossible for her just a few short months ago, but Gretchen felt safe enough that she thought she could withstand the onslaught.

“Enough!” the woman finally exclaimed. She turned around, pulling Gretchen to the sofa through the sea of bags and bundles. Without turning around, she said, “Now, I know ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’ aren’t realistic at this point, but you are simply forbidden from calling us Jack or Carol, and you should know that ‘Gretchen’ is quite unlikely from me at least. We’ll just have to make do. Time for prezzies.”

“Presents?” Gretchen landed heavily on the sofa, more concerned with the gift exchange than what was proper. She hadn’t brought anything of course.

“Yes, you’ve got quite a backlog, dear; you’d better get started.”

“I couldn’t possibly.” Gretchen looked around, picking up on what looked like _a decade’s worth_ of presents. “Please, I just—“

“We have been waiting quite some time for this moment: ten years since yo—our daughter vanished, presumed de—dead; five years since Severus came here to tell us you were out there, but oh, no! We couldn’t see you. He insisted you weren’t ready to come home nor might you ever be; and worst of all!” She stopped and set her hand on Gretchen’s thigh. Then Carol took a deep breath and said, “Worst of all: the three months you’ve been at that cottage! _Three months!_ ”

“Rori had greater need,” Jack muttered. The topic was clearly not a new one.

As if it was settled, Carol set a brightly coloured box on Gretchen’s lap. “Happy birthday! 1999.”

Gretchen stared at the big, curly bow. She was frozen, incapable of movement. She looked to her left where Jack—her Dad?—the man looked up from tracing shapes on her staff and nodded encouragingly. “She’s shopped; who could stop her, really? Although Rori was a good outlet, and I could limit her to just the big events: Christmas and your birthday. Not that I wanted to stop her, of course, wouldn’t’ve if I could’ve.”

“Go on, then!”

Ripping the paper away revealed a bright yellow box, and inside the box was a brand new Curious George, not identical to the one she had upstairs, but still George.

“I love it.” The words were out before she knew it, but they rang true. It was a more modern George, but not entirely so, as it was indeed now an older imagining.

“Of course, I meant it for you to give to your daughter, but... you’d vanished before we could give it to you. Her George is here, too, in her room,” the other woman said, the words rattling off quick as Rori could speak when she was excited.

Gretchen smiled, the idea endearing her to this whole ordeal.

“Rori’s got a whole mountain of them in her room,” Severus added, and Gretchen looked up, surprised but comforted that he was there.

“As if she needs the encouragement. Your— That is, Rori is inquisitive and curious, and magicks whatever she likes,” Jack said.

Carol laughed, “If I wasn’t grey before, Aurora has certainly put me through my paces.” She tugged at a few tight grey curls, cropped short and tucked behind her ears.

Jack then passed a brightly wrapped package, red with green ribbon, and Gretchen braced herself. Unwrapping nineteen presents – ten for her birthday and nine for Christmas – would be taxing. However, they couldn’t be rushed, wouldn’t be, and if Jack and Carol hadn’t been as interested in giving gifts as they were in ‘catching up’, it would have taken all day and all night. As it was, the last was a stretch, Carol’s warm smile met with a deep yawn. Jack had been dutifully repacking bundles, and pushing spent wrap into a rubbish sack.

Luckily for Gretchen, Severus stepped in just as the three on the couch sat back from the sacks of now-unwrapped presents. “It is getting late, and I have to retrieve Aurora from Hogwarts.”

“So soon? —But, we’ve only had the afternoon!” Carol sighed, although her enthusiasm was undercut by a yawn herself.

“I am sure that we will be back soon.” Severus extended his hand to Gretchen, and she let him help her up.

Jack gathered the bags together, getting out of the way for Carol to stand up and wrap her arms around Gretchen once more. “It was a joy, dear. It’s so good to finally see you. We’ve waited so long for this.”

“Yes, erm—me, too! And thanks for everything. It’s very... I can’t—Thank you.”

Carol held on until Jack had transferred all the bags over to Severus, who managed to get everything in the grip of one hand, long fingers wrapped around several handles. Jack then pulled her into his arms, and Gretchen felt his strong embrace. She relaxed against him, remembering a smell she’d almost forgotten. Then, she passed out.


	16. Chapter 15

_Hermione was running,_ sprinting _from the library. She had the answer, she just needed to check_ one _thing. One person, well, one ghost could tell her if she was right. She just had to beat the basilisk to the Chamber of Secrets. Almost immediately, she could hear it slithering behind her, and the sound of smooth scales on stone urged her feet ever faster._

_She had been in the old toilet before, had seen all the snakes on the handles and faucets, had been put off by Moaning Myrtle. She_ knew _that’s where it was, it was the only answer. Hermione was ready, though, with Penelope’s mirror she could make it. Not like the others. Poor Colin. Poor Mrs. Norris._

_Hermione raised the mirror she had as she sprinted round the corner to the moving staircase._

_It was over in the next second. Swearing to herself, Hermione couldn’t believe it. The awful yellow eye of the snake flashed in the light, and she froze! She felt every stone her body hit on the way down, but she was petrified and could do nothing to help herself._

_The giant head of the basilisk rose up as it doubled back, and Hermione couldn’t help but stare as its jaw lowered, ready to snatch her up._

_From somewhere nearby, she heard a student, a prefect at this hour, berating a couple for being inappropriate. He was docking House points as they turned the corner. When they found her, the rebuke of the couple and the scared gasps at finding her on the floor startled the basilisk and it slithered off unseen._

_The prefect was calling for Professor Flitwick. They were taking her to Madam Pomfrey._

_She was safe, which was a relief, but she couldn’t tell them what she knew. She swore at herself, cursing the page she’d torn in her haste. She should have just shown it to Madam Pince! It_ had _to be the answer! She could feel the paper balled up in her sweaty fist doing absolutely no good to anyone._

_No one would see it. She wanted to scream or cry or something!_

She began sobbing.

She couldn’t move a muscle, but she was sobbing from failure, from fear that Harry wouldn’t know what he needed to know. A cool cloth covered her cheeks, daubing up her tears before resting on her forehead.

Professor Snape’s voice trickled into her dream. “There’s a girl. Just a nightmare.”

He shushed her with an impossible level of comfort. Hermione was so confused. Why couldn’t she move? What was happening with the basilisk? Did they know Voldemort was there?

“Why don’t you wake up and tell me all about it?” Severus asked, his voice luring her.

She wanted to wake up. She _wanted_ to see Severus. He had probably been watching the baby for some time now. Knowing that he was there, by her side, Hermione relaxed. Maybe if she just slept a bit more...

_She had never been afraid of snakes, and even after being petrified, most common snakes were of no concern. But there was one thing that couldn’t be helped: the sound of the basilisk was etched in her mind forever. Scales on stone caused the hair on Hermione’s neck to prick up._

_As she put the blanket over the baby, the door to the nursery swung open. Unconcerned except for lowering the lamps so Aurora could sleep, Hermione froze at the sound of scales on stone._

_She turned her head, watching as an enormous adder morphed into a man._

_“No,” she said, turning and pulling her wand from the pocket of her track bottoms._

_“But I haven’t even asked yet.” Voldemort began to chuckle, staring down at the witch as she put herself between him and the baby. “Severus said you were attached to it, but I had no idea.”_

_“I don’t suppose you would.” Hermione glared back at him, baring her teeth. Her hands were trembling, and she hated that she couldn’t control them._

_“Madam Snape, be reasonable. You are no match for Lord Voldemort, but your bravery is true to your House. If you step aside, I will offer you your life, a place amongst my Death Eaters. Severus will need a concubine, I’m sure. You have pleased him.”_

_Voldemort stepped closer to the cot, and Hermione felt something inside of her snap. As if stepping out on a too-cool day, every hair on her body stood on end, and then it was even as though her flesh pricked up and grew. As she glared at the wizard, she saw his eyes narrow, and soon she was towering over him._

_“ **No.** ” she said, her voice booming in her ears. She hadn’t even raised her wand, and yet Voldemort was on his knees. She watched as Harry lunged from behind the door where he had been waiting, talking with her quietly as she had fed Aurora._

_Remembering the baby, Hermione twisted, although it felt as though she’d left her legs behind, her body spinning on her hips._

__She couldn’t see the baby! __

_All she could see now was a cloud of light. She clawed at it, working to dive back. There was nothing but light._

“Aurora!”

* * *

Gretchen lurched forward in her bed, sitting upright and gasping in the room. Severus, who had fallen asleep in his chair by the fire, was by her side in two long strides. “Where’s Rori?” she demanded, taking Severus’s arm and pulling him closer. Her urgency was contagious, and Severus grabbed her shoulder in return.

“She is with your parents, baking cookies. You’ve been asleep for three days. Your nightmares were terrifying her, so I sent her away.”

Gretchen looked up at the man and saw that he really meant ‘terrifying _us_.’

“I remember. I remember the room of flying keys, and the basilisk, and the Ministry. Severus, I remember the night Voldemort came.” Her arms wrapped around him as he leaned over to rest on the bed. She could hear his heart beating in his chest, and the rhythms soothed her even as the alarms in her head went off. “It was terrible, the last dream. Everything told me that Voldemort should have been my greatest fear, but I turned around and I had lost Rori. Severus—I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

She looked up from his chest, and he was staring down at her.

“You aren’t _losing_ anything. This is your life.”

The thought made her want to weep. She had loved being here, being with Rori and Severus, being _magical_.

She shouldn’t have underestimated her daughter. She remembered, now, the story Rori had told her about her mum and Harry and the prophecy. There was once a _horrible_ wizard. And there was a boy and his friends who grew up together, fighting him and fighting a war in increments year after year. Gretchen swallowed.

It hadn’t meant anything to her then. It had been _nothing_.

Magic could be beautiful. But like all things, it could be just as terrible. “I think I need the toilet,” she said, throwing the covers back. “—And my staff.”

Severus was quick to grab her staff from between the bed and the table. Without looking, she put her hand out for it, sliding it up to the handle as she always did. “What’s this? What are all these marks on my staff?”

“They have been there almost from the beginning.”

“Impossible.”

Severus stared down at her as she sat on the bed, stroking her hand over the unfamiliar marks. “What benefit is there for me to lie?”

Gretchen swallowed and avoided his eye. “What do they mean?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. I had someone working on a translation, but it hasn’t gone anywhere.”

Feeling like a first year being told off, she pulled the staff between her legs. “They should probably get on that, then. What do you think the hold-up is, hm?”

“Extenuating circumstances, I suspect.”

Gretchen chanced a look up at Severus, who slid the back of his fingers up from her collar to under her chin, which he lifted with a turn of his wrist.

“I shouldn’t have let you over-exert, and I apologise. It _will not_ happen again.”

“I wouldn’t change it. Honestly,” she whispered.

“You have to learn to put—”

“—Put yourself first, Hermione. I _know_!”

Severus froze.

“Too many late study dates with Harry and Ron paired against a nervous husband and soon-to-be new father. I remember.”

He said nothing, but blinked at her slowly.

“I’m going to put myself first, _now_ , and use the toilet. Then take a shower, which is a service to humanity, at this point. Then, breakfast, if you don’t mind.”

Severus took a step away from her, giving her space to get by to the bathroom.

“I will wait here.” His voice trailed away, as if he wanted to address her but didn’t know how.

Gretchen put a hand on his arm. She could feel her two lives weaving together, but they were still two. Red and blue, but not purple yet. Severus nodded his understanding and Gretchen moved into the bathroom. As she walked, she gripped the ‘new’ carvings of her staff, feeling the ridges and valleys. Every step, she was a little further and a little closer.

* * *

Severus sat in his chair by the fire, listening to the plumbing. His fingertips were pressed together, thumbs under his chin and forefingers touching his nose.

He was happy that she was up, away from the dreams. He was glad she’d had them, had been expecting them all along, obviously. It must have been reconnecting to her parents that jostled everything loose. It was progress, solid and substantial.

However, he was worried with this new, in-between person. Who, exactly, would emerge from the shower? Over the course of his life, how many dreams had he lost between waking and preparing for his day? Had the dreams been exact memories? Were memories ever exactly what happened?

He looked up when the bathroom door opened. Gretchen was wrapped in a towel, still damp from the shower.

“I... erm... forgot clothes.”

Severus watched as she moved to the wardrobe, holding her towel up with one arm. It was one of the smaller towels, which he had noticed she used and stuck in the hamper in the bathroom. He hadn't understood it; there were large, terry cloth bath sheets to use. He had assumed that it was because Gretchen didn't put any effort in her comfort, as she wasn't the type to indulge in small pleasures.

He could see most of her thighs, including the small mark of the Order that the members from Dumbledore's Army had all branded themselves with. It rested on her left hip, and he could see just the bottom of the wings when the towel shifted as she moved.

"I can feel you staring at me."

"I apologise," Severus said, but did not stop looking. He found he had very much missed seeing that mark.

She turned to look at him. From the look she gave him, it was obvious that she didn't believe him. "I don't mind. It's reassuring to know you don't find me completely undesirable when I—" She stopped herself, obviously not wanting to reveal any more.

“It is important that we not let ourselves become distracted...?”

“Gretchen.”

Severus pursed his lips, rising to walk to where she was standing. “Gretchen. You are not here to be swept away, and I assure you that I am no Casanova.” He stood behind her, plucking clothes out of the wardrobe with an efficiency borne of dressing his daughter for the last ten years.

“I’m not a twit, Severus. It’s not as though I throw myself at any bloke who happens by.”

As she took her clothes in her hands, Severus said, “Nor am I one to pick up a witch on a whim.” He paused to breathe in deeply beside her ear. “I have been... _intimate_ with two women in my entire life, and Gretchen Jones is neither of those women.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stood perfectly still.

“Believe me when I tell you that you’re due for a revelation that will forever change your view of me. I would have thought seeing your parents would have tipped you off, but you’re not the little know-it-all I have been waiting for.”

As he stepped away from her, against his better judgement, Severus let his fingertips graze against the phoenix on her hip. He moved to the bedroom door and turned back to say, “Kippers on toast, five minutes.”


	17. Chapter 16

“You’ll Floo—”

Severus watched as Gretchen nodded, fiddling with the twisting tendrils at the top of her staff. She had just pushed the last bit of breakfast into her mouth, and she was listening to Rori tell her about the Potter brood.

He was impatient. Severus fought to keep his temper, holding up a finger at Rori. “Aren’t you curious how it works?”

Without looking up at him, Gretchen said, “Powder, poof, ‘Harry Potter’s house, Godric’s Hollow’.”

Severus had no idea how she knew that, and he was infuriated with the banal, matter-of-fact delivery she gave. She had done a bit of her practise by herself before breakfast, and she had progressed far enough to get them all in trouble.

Luckily, Potter’s Floo connection was secure. As far as Severus knew, only the fireplaces in Albus’s office, Ronald Weasley’s den, and the Snape Cottage’s sitting room were connected to the Potters’. That would keep certain arrogant someones from landing at the Ministry or the Leaky Cauldron or some other catastrophic event.

Also, Rori was going with her, to do surveillance and report back. At least, that was the plan, but both of Potter’s children adored Rori and looked up to her. She would be hard-pressed to be rid of them, which Severus was glad for, too. She needed reminding that she was a ten-year old, and to enjoy her childhood before adulthood set in permanently.

Not to mention that Ginevra had taken after her mother in more than simply breeding and was now quite an accomplished baker. Severus knew that she liked to send Rori home with sweets, many of which Severus had to confiscate, for Rori’s general health and well-being, of course. The Grangers would flay him alive if their precious granddaughter had even a single cavity.

Severus reached out and wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Gretchen’s wrist, pulling her attention away from her staff. He felt a bit of a shock when he did, but no worse than touching a door knob after shuffling about in wool socks.

With his other hand he snapped his fingers, waving his hand to get Rori out of the kitchen. She huffed but did as she was directed. Severus, tugging on Gretchen’s wrist, pulled her to stand.

“How do _you_ know about that?”

“Everyone knows how to use a Floo, Severus,” she replied impatiently.

“Does ‘everyone’ include amnesiac Muggle-borns who have only had magic for a matter of weeks?” He looked down his nose at her, watching her like a hawk.

“Are you looking to fault me for simply _knowing_ simple, everyday facts? I thought having confidence in what comes after practise was the point of doing all that bloody chanting.”

“ _Language_ ,” Severus growled. Gretchen was unmoved, which infuriated him further. She was correct, after all, but that was beside the point. _Hermione_ would want to know how she knew, and Gretchen was just willing to run with it. In fact, if he remembered correctly, Hermione had done a project on exactly how the Floo system worked, once, trying to compare it to the Tube.

As if she had needed to be in Muggle Studies in the first place.

“How is your translation coming?” Severus asked. The look of being caught out flickered across her face, and it reminded him not only of his daughter but of a girl and her two new friends who had just incapacitated a troll, as well. He pulled away, bringing himself to his full height, and waved Rori back into the kitchen. “You hold the answers in the palm of your hand.” Then he turned, setting the breakfast dishes to wash up on their own before marching into his study.

* * *

Harry Potter met Rori and Gretchen in his back den. It was an empty room, black stone floors and no windows or doors that Gretchen could see. It wasn’t a large space; it was more of a holding cell.

Harry hugged Rori, and she scampered through a wall that otherwise looked solid.

Gretchen flinched, catching her breath at what she thought would be an imminent crash, but Rori had just disappeared behind the wall. Then, Harry hugged Gretchen, catching her a bit off guard, but she turned towards him and wrapped her arm around him. It was a surprise... a _pleasant_ surprise... to see Harry, to be wrapped in his welcoming.

“Morning,” he said as he pulled back. “I guess we all forgot that you’re not keyed to the house yet.”

“What?”

Harry looked embarrassed and sighed. “People sometimes figure out how to Apparate to my Floo, or something. Boy-who-lived, and all that.”

“Right.” Gretchen nodded, trying to remember what “boy-who-lived” meant.

Meanwhile, Harry pulled out a small, silver sickle knife. “I’ll need just a touch of your blood on that wall Rori just passed through.”

Gretchen paled, drawing back from the expectant man beside her. “Blood? _Really_ , Harry?”

“Just once, to key you to my house. I have to protect my family.”

She didn’t like it, didn’t know what she should do. Gretchen had never paid much attention to tabloids or anything, and she certainly hadn’t spent time fantasising about the evils of wizards, but she couldn’t see why anyone would want to _hurt_ Harry’s family.

He was starting to look at her strangely. This strange man in this strange black cell wanted her _blood._

“It’s a spell Hermione found, if that’s any consolation.” He pushed his fingers into his hair, pulling at it, mussing it out of a careful style. “She looked into _every_ contingency, every possibility. No one who is not keyed in can come in, full stop. That’s it.”

“What do you mean Herm— I found it?”

“Well, it’s a variation on our phoenixes. You know, the scar on your...” Harry said, but trailed off, blushing as he pointed at her hip.

“It’s just my hip, Potter. You can see it in a bathing costume.”

He pulled a face at her and said, “Listen, _Snape_ —”

That made her laugh, and Harry smiled at her. His eyes were shining, and he pulled off his jumper to reveal a t-shirt. A large phoenix like the one on her hip and on Neville’s arm rested on a well-shaped bicep. “I know you remember. Hours in the library, and then you found this, and without it you couldn’t get into...”

“Headquarters,” Gretchen said softly.

“Where’s headquarters?”

“Grimmauld Place, Harry,” she whispered, staring at the mark. Again, the black cell began to swim around her.

Harry lifted the sickle knife again. “Just a smudge on that stone wall. Ready?” Like a father cajoling a child, he picked up her hand and cut the pad of her thumb. He was gentle but firm, and he pressed the blood against the wall. Within moments it shimmered apart, like beads in a doorway.

“All done. What do we say to a little hurt?”

“ _Episkey_.” Gretchen watched as her little cut faded away as if it was nothing. She looked up at Harry, who laced their fingers together and pulled her through the door.

“Oi, Ginny! Guess who the kneazle dragged in!”

Harry pulled her through the house, back into a kitchen attached to a large living room. It looked as though it was holding its breath, waiting to exhale hastily hidden toys from every corner.

“It’s about bloody time!” Ginny said as she pulled a baking sheet from the oven. Once it was settled, she tossed the oven mitts aside, turning to face them.

She was gorgeous. Gretchen remembered back to when Severus and Albus had taken her to Ollivander’s, and she’d had the cinnamon potion. However, instead of a spritely body and long copper hair, the woman facing her now was hugely pregnant with a short-cropped pixie cut. She was still stunning. “Ginny.”

Then, Gretchen was swept back to another day, five years earlier, at the book shop. The girl in the toilet. And the blonde one with the curious question. Her stomach was in her throat, and Gretchen felt like she would be sick.

“Easy now. Have a seat. Drink this.” The woman had a glass from the shelf and tapped it with her wand.

Gretchen took the glass and drank deeply. She could not believe what was happening, what she was seeing, what she was remembering.

Harry and Ginny were standing over her, and again she was struck by the impression of parents worrying over a child. In his hand, Harry had her staff. She reached for it, taking it tightly in her left hand. It wasn’t enough.

“What is it? What do you need?” Harry asked, looking for all the world as though he was ready to dash out and get it.

“A pillow. Severus gives me pillows.”

Ginny conjured three pillows from out of nowhere, and Gretchen sliced her fingers through the air, shredding each in turn. Then, with a last roiling gurgle, her stomach settled. A shiver ran down her spine, and she finished drinking her water.

“All right?” Ginny asked.

Gretchen nodded, and began to take in the house again. It was so homey, and it was obvious that the young family spent most of their time in these rooms. Despite being tidy, the room was packed with toys and books and games, two large brooms with stirrups and two smaller brooms sat in racks by the French doors to the back garden.

Clearing her throat, Ginny asserted her presence. “Hi!” She threw her arms wide and bent down for an awkward hug. “I’m not always this large. I promise.”

Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny’s shoulder, pride and protection emanating from him.

“You look good. Really good. When are you due?” Gretchen asked. These were the things that she had found pregnant women always wanted to hear, but for the first time, she actually meant it.

“Any bloody day now. She was due last Friday!”

“She?

“Lily Luna.”

“ _Luna..._ ” That name rang in Gretchen’s mind like a wind chime.

Ginny Summoned a photo album and sat in the chair next to Gretchen. “The children’s godmother.” She flinched, as if worried that Gretchen would be upset with her. “She was the next closest witch to Harry and me.” Ginny opened the book, and there she was, the blond woman from the bookstore.

“Thestral mane...” Gretchen said, and then shook her head softly so she could focus on the pictures. They moved. She was used to it; Severus had numerous photos around the cottage, but it was still jarring at first.

“James Sirius is our oldest, almost five. Then, Albus Severus: Snape _loves_ that.”

On her other side, Harry snorted. Gretchen suspected that Severus did not love it one bit, but from what she understood about the relationship with Harry and Severus, there was little Severus could do.

“Al just turned two, but he chases after his brother so much I wonder if he’s not growing twice as fast,” Harry said.

“Can I meet them?” Gretchen turned around looking for the kids, seeing some stairs and running her eyes up to the second floor, hoping for a peek.

Ginny smiled. “Soon. Trust me: you want Rori to settle them down first. They _love_ her, and they are excited to meet you too. They’ve heard a lot about... you.”

Ruffling his hair a little bit, Harry looked at Gretchen with an apology on his face. “Both of _you_ , I guess. I’m sorry. It’s impossible to not talk about Hermione as we remember her, or about you, _Gretchen_.”

“They don’t think I’m two people, though?” Gretchen went back to the album, slowly turning the pages. She felt as if she _were_ two people sometimes.

“No, we’ve talked to them, well James, really. Al just scuttles around and gets into things. And Rori has been very good with explaining it.”

“She should be,” Ginny muttered.

Harry shot her a warning look. Gretchen looked at them, wondering what they were communicating between the two of them. As the moments stretched out, Gretchen was sure they were keeping something from her. “Harry Potter, I insist you tell me.”

With a smug snort, Ginny also turned her gaze on Harry. She folded her arms, clearly indicating she’d told him so.

As Gretchen waited, she was reminded of much younger versions of Harry Potter, one who was using a book he’d told her he’d got rid of or one who wanted her help on an assignment, but didn’t want to admit to having skived off.

“Tell me, Harry!”

“Snape is going to have my head,” he said, mostly to himself. Then, he cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Ginny and I, and sometimes Severus and Ginny and I have... erm... _discussed_... well, _you_.”

“Me?”

“Well, you know... he ran into you, and we knew it was you. Well, I thought— _Ginny_ and I and a lot of people thought we should just, you know, get you.”

“But not Snape!” Ginny interrupted. “He said if you were going to come, you’d come. And then he goes haring off all over the world _researching!_ All the while, he dragged Rori along. All we had of you, and she was gone for months at a time!” Her jaw clenched, and her lips wobbled. “Bloody pregnancy hormones. Come out, already, Lily!” Ginny held her belly in her hands and scowled down at it.

“He was right, though. Bloody bastard usually is. He’s done all the research, knows all the known possibilities. And you’re here now, and that’s what counts, right?”

Gretchen listened to Harry and nodded. However, something in her brain was snagging. As Ginny called the kids down and Gretchen smiled and took Al from Rori’s arms and walked over to read the book the James had picked out, _something_ was unravelling. It made her feel hot under her skin and scratchy, and as always, she could only think of one person—Severus—to turn to.


	18. Chapter 17

Severus felt electric with anticipation. One thought kept chasing through his mind. _The fuse is lit._ That was the code phrase that he had given to Rori that meant they had to be on their toes. Something big was going to happen; it was only a matter of time. When the fuse ran out, Rori would Floo to Hogwarts and wait.

Not unsurprisingly, she had argued with him about leaving. She was blessed, in a way, by never having watched her parents argue, let alone fight, which was always unpleasant for children. Even further, Rori could not begin to imagine the temper that her mother had, and when that came part and parcel with unpredictable magic, there might be serious danger.

When Gretchen returned from the Potters’ house a couple of days ago, Severus had seen the spark in her eye. She was getting close to the next phase, but she wasn’t there yet. Not since he had first seen Gretchen in the bookshop had he felt as excited. For Severus, it was as thrilling as waiting for the perfect ingredient to transform a potion.

From the kitchen, Severus watched Gretchen and Rori as they decorated. He could see them as they buzzed between the tree and the crate, pulling out ornaments. Hagrid had outdone himself this year, bringing a perfectly shaped tree to the cottage just after breakfast this morning.

The house was beginning to smell like Christmas. Ginevra had sent home a banquet of treats, and the sugary confections seemed to lure everyone into the kitchen from the furthest corners of the house.

The tree was tall as tall as Severus, green and fresh. So tall, in fact, that Gretchen couldn’t reach the highest boughs. Rori handled decorating the lowest section, prattling away over every memory of Christmas she had.

Gretchen was enthralled. She had barely let Rori out of her sight since coming home from Godric’s Hollow. Severus hoped it was a sign, a possessive move that she had almost worked through everything. Also, when she wasn’t with Rori, Gretchen kept careful tabs on Severus. She had begun watching him as well.

He tried to imagine what it might be like for her. Sometimes it looked as though she had taken a bite from a bright, juicy-looking apple only to realise it was made of wax. Sometimes she would find him in a room, and stop what she was doing altogether just to look at him as though he was a spot she thought she had scrubbed away. Sometimes she sat close by him on the couch, spreading out the runes he’d copied from her staff as she studied them.

 

Severus watched her as she came closer and closer to her conclusion. Gretchen clearly had no idea what to do with herself, and Severus watched her struggle with savoury anticipation.

“Dad! We need your help with the rest, please!” Rori called from behind the tree as she moved to hang one last bauble on a branch.

“One moment, Aurora.”

Severus watched as Gretchen turned to look at him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Her arms crossed as he moved from the kitchen toward the crate, and she stepped to the opposite side of the tree as he selected the last few ornaments from the shreds of paper in the crate.

Once it was finished, he and Rori moved to the fireplace as was the custom each year. She stood in front of him, and he rested his left hand on her shoulder. Then he drew his wand and whispered, “ _Lumos Arboris Delicatii_ ”

Rori gasped as the fairy lights began to sparkle, first at the bottom before twisting up the tree. As though wrapped in ribbons of light, the tree was swept up as branches began to twinkle. As they reached the top of the tree, they seemed to twine together until they became a brilliant star.

It was truly a wondrous sight.

As always, Rori clapped with delight as the tree became truly stunning. Gretchen cleared her throat. Turning to look at her, Severus found she was lit by an eerie white light, but it wasn’t coming from the tree.

It was coming from _within_ her.

“Aurora, go see your Papa Albus, please.” Severus spoke to his daughter, but his eyes never left Gretchen. He listened as Rori went to the Floo and left without complaint.

He was not surprised. Where Gretchen had once been a docile carbon copy of her mother, she now stood like a fallen angel.

“How _dare_ you!” Her voice sounded like thunder in the distance, and it made her seem twice her usual size.

Approaching with caution, Severus smiled, baring his teeth. “Finally have it, then?”

“Answer me!”

The fairy lights on the tree quivered, and the ornaments shook and rattled quietly. When she was within arm’s reach, Severus lunged forward, Apparating her into the empty field between the cottage and the castle.

She pushed his shoulders away, and Severus fell into the snow.

He scrambled to get up, and took aggressive steps toward her.

“How dare I _what_?” His hair was damp with snow, and it fell limply over his cheeks. She stepped forward again and shoved him, moving him bodily, but Severus kept his footing.

Overhead, a loud clap of thunder struck.

Then, her skin lost its curious brightness as a cloud of white mist surrounded them. “Five years! Five years you waited!”

Giving up shoving him, she shouted at the sky. Her arms were thrown out from her sides, and Severus saw that she had left her staff in the house. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered. She had hooked the harness over a coat hook as it made it very difficult to manoeuvre around the tree.

Regaining her focus, she turned her luminous gaze upon him. “I was there! I was waiting for you!”

Severus drew himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at her. “And what about you? You had the Portkey; you had your magic. Why didn’t you come?”

Affronted, she stepped back. That seemed to stop her for a moment, but only just. “You _knew_! I had no idea, but you _knew_ , and you kept her away from me!”

“You’re damned right I did. What are you? You aren’t her mother! You are just some shop girl.” Severus dared to turn and walk away from her. He hadn’t made it two steps before he was dragged back, on his arse through the snow.

His head hit her shins, and another clap of thunder sounded. Severus looked up at her as she towered over him, his head pillowed on her boots.

Kicking her feet back, she stepped away for just a moment. She put one foot on his chest, side-stepping so she could look down upon him.

“You knew! Harry told me how he wanted to come for me and _you_ wouldn’t let him. _You_ kept her from me!”

“Ah, well, if the great Harry Potter says so, then it must be the right move.” Severus stretched his body, lying back on the ground. “What would _Potter_ have done if there was nothing to be done with you, _Gretchen_? What would he have told your precious daughter if he had been wrong? Sorry, darling, your mummy doesn’t love you.”

Severus drew his wand once more, sweeping her feet out from beneath her so she, too, was on her back in the snow. “You know it’s true. How many times have you held Potter back when he wanted to dash into trouble? You know it would have been half-cocked to try before we knew everything.”

“I don’t care! This is _my_ life! _My_ daughter! You had no right!” She was sitting on top of him now, pounding on his chest with tears streaming down her face.

Severus let her. It was the very least he could offer her now that she understood. He, himself, would give up every moment of his life before Rori to have every minute he had with her now.

Hermione had given up her very life so that Rori could live in a world free from Voldemort. To find her alive all those years ago had been a miracle. It had been a crime, in a way, to leave her there in her dull Muggle life when the whole Wizarding world was waiting for her.

It had been unforgiveable to deny her the family she had sacrificed so much to protect. As her fists began to slow, her ragged breath echoed around them. Severus opened his eyes, astonished to see his wife straddling him and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Severus.” Her arms coiled around him.

He rolled over, covering her body with his. “Hermione. Stay. Please, stay.”

“The magic is coming back. I can only expel it for so long. We can only do it for so long.”

“You and Gretchen. Who is she?”

Hermione smirked up at him. “A fantasy I had when I was little and having the worst time in Muggle school about how great things would be when I grew up and started a new life, including a less ridiculous name. It seems so silly now.”

Severus sighed. “So she’s you, then?”

“One hundred per cent. And the magic is thinner now, inside.”

Severus looked around. On the field the fog was sinking, pulling back into the source.

“I can feel it incorporating. Be patient, Severus?”

He pushed hair away from her face. “Pot.”

“Kettle.”

She sighed. “You are made of patience.” She began to breathe more and more deeply, and Severus could almost see the magic move into her like water into a sponge. She never stopped smiling at him, though.

He watched her carefully, hoping to witness the exact moment that the change occurred. Severus wanted to _know_ she was with him. When she took a gasping breath and began to cough, he knew the switch had been made.

“Severus?”

“What do you remember?”

“The tree. It was brilliant.”

He looked down at her.

“And?”

“And fighting you. It was like that dream-memory with Voldemort. My body was acting and I had no control over it. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“We will know in the morning. I expect my body is in shock at this time.”

She smiled up at him. Her eyes twinkled as she moved to get more comfortable beneath him.

“Did you kiss her?” 

Severus narrowed his eyes at her.

“No.”

“Good.”

Measuring his thoughts, Severus considered his next words.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just don’t want to miss out on the fun, is all.”

“Cheeky,” Severus grumbled as he pushed his body away from hers. Once on his feet, he helped her up. “Better get inside before we catch our deaths. We’re both soaked through.”

“Yes, Severus,” she answered; her voice was quiet and light. She stepped up and wrapped her arms around him.

He drew her body close and Apparated them back into the house.


	19. Chapter 18

Gretchen lay in her bed with her eyes closed, idly tracing the runes on her staff.

She was waiting for Severus to come back from Harry’s house, where Rori would be spending New Year’s Eve. She thought about him stepping into the Floo in his tuxedo, black on black, and a smile spread across her lips.

They were going out to dinner at some fancy Muggle place when he came back. She was dressed in a velvet cocktail dress the colour of dark chocolate. When Rori gave her a hug before she left, she had stroked it again and again with her tiny hand.

The dress had been a gift from Severus, one of the many he’d presented her throughout their endless Christmas celebrations, first with the Grangers, then the Potters and Ronald, and Hagrid. Albus had followed them to and fro, seemingly to monitor her. Whenever she had gotten... buzzy... Albus had Apparated them away to some place where they could do their practice.

Gretchen didn’t remember what happened every time, but she could feel it just outside her mental reach. It was exhilarating. Three months ago, she’d had nothing, and now she had possibility after possibility.

She took a deep breath. _Exhilaration!_ She couldn’t remember ever having felt that before. Gretchen couldn’t remember being angry at all, let alone enough to hit someone as she had with Severus. And confusion — that was new. She thought about Harry’s cell of a foyer. She still didn’t remember exactly how that worked, but she did remember feeling good when he held her hand, even if he had drawn her blood. Watching Rori open Christmas gift after Christmas gift had made Gretchen feel light and warm. The child’s excitement was contagious, and she was clearly doted on by everyone.

“Are you ready, Ms. Jones?”

Gretchen opened her eyes, turning her head to find Severus in the doorway of her bedroom. She looked him up and down, shameless in her perusal. It was about the only thing she could do that he never seemed prepared for.

Except for tonight. It was as if he knew he cut the most distinguished silhouette she had ever seen, as if he _knew_ he was the only man she had ever thought more than twice about.

“Are you going to tell me who sent you that suit? Or where we are going?”

“It is a gift from our host, who has the most refined taste and the deepest pockets, I can assure you. As for your other query, I will only say what I have said already: we are going to answer your question. _If_ you are ready, that is.”

“With Rori gone, there is no one left to primp me, and I wouldn’t dream of ruining her hard work.” Gretchen shifted and stood from the bed, balancing to put on the very high shoes waiting for her. They were enchanted, allegedly, but she still felt very dubious about spending the whole night in them.

For the night, she was using the exquisite satin harness that Ollivander had given her months ago. Severus had made sure the colour was charmed to blend seamlessly with her dress, although they had agreed that she would treat her staff as a walking stick once they had arrived.

They walked downstairs, and Severus helped with her cloak. Then, half a moment after he had secured his overcoat, she stepped up and wrapped her arms around him, ready for Apparition.

She smiled up at him, and he stroked his finger under her chin. “Are you ready for the next twist, Ms. Jones?”

Before she could even nod, Severus had them spun away from the cottage, and off to their destination.

* * *

Le Doré Paonne was about as posh and luxurious a restaurant as one would expect of Lucius Malfoy. There was a very long line to even enter the front door, although no one felt even a shiver of cold as they waited beneath elaborate heaters, perched on velvet settees for even a chance to sit at the bar. However, what most didn’t know was that there was a private entrance in the back, through a courtyard. The landscaping was exquisite, of course, and tonight, there was a very tall, dark, and handsome figure waiting with his hand on the velvet rope.

Severus could taste his anticipation at the thought of Shacklebolt’s first look at Gretchen Jones when he did not have any idea of the whole elaborate doings. All he knew was that Albus needed him to work the door tonight, and that it would be well worth his time... and _silence_.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of the two treats for Gretchen this evening. While she had met most of the key players of her young life, there were some teachers and fellow Order members who would have to come into play now. Severus did not relish the idea of presenting Gretchen to Minerva, She knew that he had travelled and researched, but not that the woman had been collected.

Severus guided Gretchen through the courtyard. She leaned a bit on her staff, looking very natural with it. His hand was at her back, and she let him guide her. It pleased him at the same time that it worried him. Hermione had never let him guide her. She would rather charge through life half a pace ahead of him, trying to see what was coming so she could face it head on. Of course, that had been his young warrior-bride. The gossip she had endured at the beginning, and then when the prophecy was partially leaked, and on and on, had been a tide for her to stand against, which she had done with little complaint.

He couldn’t imagine Hermione doing anything for his attentions. Severus shook off his thoughts. He had noticed a few paces back that Kingsley had recognized him. Now they were stepping up, and Severus just caught the look of utter astonishment on the usually cool and collected _Minister’s_ face.

He wasn’t gaping like a fish, _per se_ , but it still felt good to get one over on Shacklebolt.

“H-he-how are you this evening, Mr Snape?” Shacklebolt asked as he unlatched the velvet rope, allowing them through to the private door.

Severus stopped on the other side of the barrier, and nodded to Shacklebolt. “My guest for tonight, Gretchen Jones, and I have the chef’s table, I believe.”

A world of understanding passed over the other man, who smiled, now, at Gretchen. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “A most lovely guest, if I may. I haven’t laid eyes on someone so lovely in many years.”

Gretchen blushed and stuttered her thanks. Shacklebolt watched her closely as he moved to let them through the door, his gold earring glinting in the light. This distracted her, and she stumbled in her high shoes. Severus caught her, but she reached out for Shacklebolt with her free hand. He caught her as well. She looked up at him, awe and wonder on her face. Her lips moved as if to make a word.

“Let’s go inside,” Severus urged, not wanting to draw undue attention.

She obeyed, leaving Shacklebolt outside the door. As Severus took her cloak to have it checked, inspiration struck, and Gretchen turned and wrenched the door open.

“Kingsley!”

He only had enough time to turn before she was wrapping her arms around him. Severus followed out the door, holding it wide. He watched as Shacklebolt returned her embrace, holding her tightly.

“Hermione?” he whispered.

She shook her head and pulled away. Her staff came out from behind Shacklebolt’s back — she’d gotten very adept in keeping it with her of late — and used it to support some of her weight. “Not yet,” she whispered.

“The chef is waiting, sir.”

Severus turned to the maître d’ and nodded. “Gretchen?”

“Right.”

Shacklebolt nodded and shared a look with Severus. As she turned to walk in and then followed the man to their private table, Severus crooked his finger. Shacklebolt nodded, looked around, and pulled out his wand. A quick spell later, and he was dressed in something much more appropriate for a guest.

The two men shook hands, and the door clicked shut behind them just as a plate shattered in the kitchen.

Two voices let out the same exclamation, “ _You!_ ”

* * *

“ _Lucius Malfoy_ ,” Gretchen hissed at Severus as he strode toward their table by kitchen. “You brought me to see Lucius sodding Malfoy for New Year’s Eve?”

“Ah, so you _do_ remember him,” Severus replied. His tone was mysterious, and he as he looked at her, she had that vision of him as a great, gawking bird deciding how to act.

Gretchen’s head was spinning. She put her fingers to her temple. Her other hand was clammy, but she felt power moving through it as she held her staff. She looked back at Severus, and he looked a great deal like his daughter did when he was telling Rori off for mischief. There was a lack of repentance that was beginning to get under Gretchen’s skin. She was so angry, she could hardly see straight.

“You will recall that you once asked Draco if his father was a Muggle, and as I told you earlier, we are here to answer your question.”

A carving board hit stainless steel, and everyone turned to look at Lucius. He levelled his gaze on Severus and said, “I hardly think it is fair, Severus, to leave me in the dark about your companion this evening, all things considered.”

His voice exposed a bitterness that Gretchen most often heard from old couples, as if Lucius had often nagged at the point of being uninformed time and again. She knew he was a powerful man, and expected that to him, the greatest power would be knowledge. To be ambushed like this would be an affront, and that they were in Lucius’s own territory must have been like salt in a wound.

Severus, though, was looking quite like the cat who’d caught the canary. “I think, brother, that you will see the method to this madness.” Then, he turned toward Kingsley and nodded once.

From the doorway, Kingsley was the only one smiling in the room, and he was looking at Gretchen again as though she were... well, she couldn’t say. He seemed very pleased, anyway. Every so often he would shake his head, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came.

Severus moved to pull out Gretchen’s chair, and relieving her of her staff when she very reluctantly sat. “ _If_ you’d be so kind as to have a seat, I’m rather peckish,” Severus said.

Gretchen didn’t like not having her staff in hand. She didn’t know any spells, per se, but she could at least clobber the blond git with it.

Severus bowed a bit toward her and moved to take his chair. “You will recall, Gretchen, that you asked what _Lucien Malphred_ had to do you with _you_ , and I thought there was no better way to discern that than a visit and a meal courtesy of the man himself.”

“It’s likely poisoned,” she said, toying with the corner of her napkin and refusing to look at Severus as he sat across from her.

“He wouldn’t dream of it,” Kingsley interrupted. “I think I can make a pleasant evening very much worth his while.”

“How so?” Lucius asked quietly, and Gretchen got the sense that he was restraining a great deal of desperation.

Kingsley looked at Lucius for a long moment before turning to look at Gretchen again. “Perhaps... supervised visits with your family at their home.”

“Their... _magical_ home?”

“As long as we are very clear about Miss Jones having a splendid evening.”

Without sparing her a glance, Lucius replied, “But, of course.”

Gretchen watched Lucius as his temper turned in an instant. For several minutes he flitted about his kitchen, gathering ingredients and utensils and setting them up with almost compulsive precision.

Kingsley slipped away while Gretchen watched Lucius gather his things. When she looked back at Severus, he was pouring himself a glass of wine, and she noticed she had very full one as well.

Severus lifted his glass. “To beginnings.”

Gretchen touched her glass to his. It had only just clinked when the first plate was presented to each of them by the chef. The meal had begun, and everything was made for them by hand, from scratch, by Lucius himself.

When he was able to separate his focus from his work, he told the story of his life since the marriage law was passed:

“What you must know, first and foremost, is that I was very close to the Dark Lord, closer than all but my wife’s sister. As the saying goes, the closer I got to the Dark Lord, the more I was sure that I was more his enemy than friend.

“I had believed when he first disappeared that young Harry Potter was the next great Dark wizard. I kept my thoughts to a very select few, my wife and son among them.

“Yet, the Dark Lord returned, and he was most displeased with my failure of allegiance. However, he knew I had much to offer him, so he began to demand his due. I was helpless to resist.

“Unlike _some_ , I could not simply jump ship. I _certainly_ would not be Dumbledore’s man, not for all the gold in Gringotts. Thus, my fate was sealed. I had to live under the rule of the Dark Lord, a life in a gilded cage, or wait for Potter to defeat him.

“I looked for ways out for my son, I even tried to marry him off and fulfill the Dark Lord’s prophecy, but the Dark Lord trusted me and my son not at all. Thus, my one time protégé became my nemesis.”

As the sixth course was cleared, Severus interrupted. “Yes, Lucius. I’m a terrible, deceitful excuse for a wizard. You can barely stand the sight of me, et cetera, et cetera.”

Lucius ignored him and turned to Gretchen. “He married, fulfilling the prophecy, and they had a daughter, and within months, the Dark Lord was destroyed.”

“You... _wanted_ me to marry your son?”

“Of course not,” Lucius hissed, making Gretchen remember her mistrust of him. “I wanted my son to be saved, at the very least. If he had fathered Aurora—“

Gretchen held up her hand, stopping Lucius’s thought. She couldn’t conceive of it¬, and didn’t want to think of any world where she and... _Draco Malfoy_...

Luckily, Lucius immediately diverted the conversation. “Without the Dark Lord, his minions were disorganised, and many were apprehended immediately. I, however, was not. Once Severus had confirmed that his wife was with child, I began my preparations.

“The morning the news broke, my family and I went directly to the appropriate officials to meet our fates. Of us, my crimes were the most dire, and were handled accordingly.

“The worst punishment, they decided, was to banish me to live here, amongst the Muggles with nothing to my name. My wife and son could come and go as they pleased, but I could never set foot in my world again.

“That was many years ago. At first, I floundered, but I would not be a stranger in a strange land for long.” He wiped his hands with a kitchen towel, two gourmet puddings having been completed just moments before. “Now, I am once again at a zenith.” He lifted the two plates from his work table and gracefully brought them to the diners.

Gretchen, who could not remember having a finer meal in her entire life, eyed the beautiful milk chocolate sphere as it rested inside a stand of perfect looking raspberries.

“This, Miss Jones, is my most carefully guarded recipe. I believe that you are quite fond of raspberries?”

“I am.”

Lucius stepped around behind her, leaning a bit as he handed her an impossibly dainty silver fork. “This is raspberry infused milk chocolate, organic, grown in hot houses that I rule with an iron fist. It is a truffle. It is meant to pass through your lips and rest on your tongue where it will melt. I encourage you to savour it. Rush nothing.”

“Why doesn’t Severus have the same?”

“He likes ice cream.”

Gretchen could almost see the frown on Lucius’s face. It must be a bitter pill to swallow that he could make such delicacies, and Severus only wanted something as simple as ice cream. She spared a glance as Severus took up a spoon for his vanilla ice cream, before engaging once more with her own sweet.

“And the berries? Are they garnish only?”

“Heavens, no. Also to be savoured, but after, when the beautiful juice can cleanse your palate.”

She couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer, and stuck the fork into the truffle. The tines went in as if the chocolate was half melted, although it seemed solid enough when she put her teeth to it. Gretchen placed the whole sweet into her mouth on her tongue.

It was heaven. It was divine. It was... magical. Gretchen opened her mouth to say as much but all she could do was sigh and hum as it melted into her tongue.

She opened her eyes and felt as if a veil had been lifted from her world. Severus was eating his ice cream and watching her carefully, a determination and sadness behind his eyes. Lucius was watching her, and he looked like Severus did when he was anticipating a difficult potion coming to perfection. In the corner, Kingsley stood with a broad smile on his face, and he nodded.

Lucius leaned closer to her. “It’s nearly midnight. Wouldn’t you like to take Severus into the courtyard?”

She looked across the table and then back at Lucius. “I certainly would.” Pushing back from the table, she offered Severus her hand, and he followed her. He looked like an anxious teenager being led away by the girl he fancies. She smiled back at him. 

Behind them, she could hear Kingsley and Lucius negotiating under their breath. She didn’t care. She wanted to get outside before midnight. Her strides lengthened and soon she was in the chilly night air. She didn’t have her cloak or her staff, so she turned and leaned against Severus for his warmth and strength.

She looked up at him. He was paralysed now. He looked down at her, desperation in his features. Around them, people began to chant: ten, nine, eight—

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her shoes were tall, lifting her closer to him, but her arms raised her up further. _Seven, six, five_ —

She smiled at him, and his eyes were pleading. She wasn’t sure what for, but she could guess.

_Four. Three._

Overhead, fireworks began to bloom, popping and shimmering in the night sky.

_Two. One!_

She pressed her lips against his, losing the cheering crowds and fireworks and everything to his kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around her, but Severus never took more than she offered. 

She gave of her whole self. She had missed kissing him so much. He had been such a part of her life for such a short time, and yet she needed him desperately. Again and again she opened herself and devoured what she could until the world swooned around her.

“Get her staff!” Severus shouted.

He was still holding her against him, but now his breath was in her ear. It was soothing and pleading and demanding. Then his strong hand wrapped hers around the staff. Like a ship dropping anchor, Gretchen’s body lurched but stilled.

“How are you?” Severus asked, brushing hair away from her face.

Gretchen smiled and said, “Splendid.”

Lucius Malfoy’s victorious chuckle filled the courtyard, and Severus led her to a bench where Kingsley was waiting and watching, his face betraying his utter amazement. The pale cloud of light in the courtyard began to dissipate, and Gretchen sat between Severus and Kingsley for a long time, as she came back to herself.


	20. Chapter 19

On New Year’s day, Severus sat in his study and, through the magic mirror, _supervised_ Gretchen and Rori as they sat on Rori’s bed, reading.

Rori’s back was toward him, but her head was bent over her book. Her legs were stretched in front of her, feet pressing sole to sole with Gretchen’s. Gretchen was sitting the same way, and dark curls fell into her eyes which, of course, had been made up by Rori, who was practicing daily on Gretchen. Meanwhile, Rori and Gretchen weren’t speaking much. Patience was growing thin between them, and innocent statements were almost immediately returned with snipes. Still, they couldn’t bear to be apart for very long.

Gretchen was wearing a dark green cotton shirt. It had long sleeves and a high collar, and yet it seemed to reveal so much to Severus, and tease him with the rest. Rori had given the shirt to her for Christmas, unbeknownst to Severus. Ginevra had taken Rori out shopping without his knowledge. He should have known. Rori had chosen only two books, a journal, and a quill set with inks for Gretchen. He had been preoccupied with his own shopping at the time and had not taken enough notice of his daughter.

He would not be making the same mistake again.

Severus watched the two through the mirror, his hands gripping the arm rests of his chair gently. He had left his wand on his desktop, having only just resisted the urge to listen in with a simple enough charm on the mirror.

Supervision was one thing. Spying was another. He would not spy on his daughter, in her own room, at least.

The two sat still, except for a deep sigh from Rori, her chest rising and falling as she relaxed into her book.

Severus sunk lower into his chair, feeling his back stretch as it curled. Part of him could not believe he was using his time in such a fashion. Certainly, there were better uses for his attention.

None of those could still his thoughts, though. Hermione. _Gretchen_. Bloody _Lucius Malfoy!_

They were not young men any more, although last night was in some ways similar to an event Lucius had orchestrated for Severus when Lucius had just left Hogwarts. An exclusive party had been held at Malfoy Manor, and Severus had been a curious guest.

…A beautiful Spanish Pureblood…

That had been more than thirty years ago. Oh, how the night had turned after dessert had been set out, chocolate truffles _for every taste_.

Pushing his fingers through his hair, Severus clenched the fine strands and tugged just a bit. Then, he rolled his head a bit on his shoulders, looking up just in time to see Gretchen’s eyes flick up at Rori, a small nod, and small but satisfied smile.

Severus snarled. Whatever patience he might once have had for this scenario had expended itself.

He opened his hand, and his wand flew to it. The mirror darkened in a flash. The room was Silenced. A glass vase was conjured, and quickly met its demise against the wall behind his desk. Then a second vase came and went the same way.

As the shards dropped to the floor, Severus stood in the centre of the room, panting. He had lost control, however contained the moment might have been. He swallowed, his breath coming back to him.

This would not do. However free he was to act candidly in the privacy of his office, Severus knew he could not erupt in front of Aurora or Gretchen. Further, he would need time to regain control of the situation.

He felt the world slipping from his fingers. It was not the first time. The sinking sensation in his stomach was like an old enemy, come back from the dead.

In his doings, Severus’s hair had fallen into his eyes. Now, looking in the mirror, his reflection looked as if no time had passed since his darkest days: he was tall but lurching, like a vulture. He drew a deep breath, and then another as he drew himself up into a proper posture. A third exhale and he was standing again, firm but relaxed.

Aurora’s father.

Of all that he had been in this world, he was happiest in this role.

For half a moment, he wished that he’d never met Gretchen in that bookshop. How his joyful little world had turned that day, however long it had been put off by his research. Shaking his head, Severus pushed the thought away. He did not wish for that. He would not trade away even these months, would never wish to steal them from Aurora.

His reasoning then turned to his own strategy. Clearly, Aurora had certain ideas in her head, as did Gretchen, it seemed. 

Severus was not unaccustomed to women who thought they desired him: he'd put off a handful of witches in the years since Hermione had left. Honestly, he hadn’t had more than a passing interest in any of them, and it had seemed beyond comprehension to have anyone act as Rori’s step-mother.

Hermione, who she had been and what she had done, could not be substituted.

Perhaps this was the crux of the problem. Gretchen and Hermione _were_ the same person. She was _there_ , in that body, and trying to get out. Hermione was Gretchen. Gretchen was Hermione.

Still, Severus didn't know what Gretchen was playing at with that kiss last night, although he also suspected that she did not know, either. She had told him of her very few failed attempts at a love life, almost in passing.

If she had had the ability to fantasise at all, Severus would suspect her of trying to live out said fantasies in the safe place he had made. However, they had talked at length about her inability to imagine anything at all for herself.

Of course, Severus did not need to imagine. He remembered his short marriage quite well, and his intimate knowledge of Hermione was some of his most prized intelligence. It would not be a great intellectual leap to think that Hermione might feel the same way.

Perhaps he was not entirely correct about Gretchen’s actions. Severus _had_ provided a haven for her to explore her… self. It would be short-sighted to think that that self was not also a… _romantic_ creature.

He should have known. The thought made that the corner of his lip curl up in satisfaction, and perhaps a little something else.

It was decided. It was not a new strategy that he needed, but an evolved one. Severus had been at his most placid these last few months, which had been quite successful in the beginning. Of that, he was confident. However, if he wanted to… _inspire_ Gretchen’s progress, he would have to do more.

Severus, who had been pacing around the room now for some time, heard glass crunch under his boot. He frowned, Vanishing the mess, and then, returned to his chair. Once settled, he activated the mirror again. They were curled together now, Gretchen’s mouth forming words Severus could not hear, and Rori twirling her finger through a chestnut curl.

Looking carefully, Severus could see how Rori had carefully turned Gretchen’s hair into careful ringlets. Some twisted with purpose, making Gretchen’s eyes look even more doe-ish.

With a snort, Severus felt a bloom of pride in his little Slytherin. Without his clear intent, he had taught Rori much more than he had meant to teach. Then, as a mountain lion stalking its lunch, he turned his attention to Gretchen and found he had a touch pity for what more was in store for her, for how could she know with whom she was toying?

* * *

After dinner, Severus called Rori into his office for a serious conversation. Gretchen acted as if she resented being excluded, as if she resented losing even another minute with Rori, but a stern look from Severus quelled her protest.

Rori, as if she knew what this ‘serious conversation’ was to be about, sat on the sofa and let her feet kick as if she were a typical ten year old.

They sat and looked at each other for a long time before Severus bestowed a pleased grin upon his daughter. “I see what you have done while my attention has been elsewhere, Aurora.”

She smiled and shrugged. Then, because she was still a child, no matter how mature, she shrunk a bit in her seat. She was shy and perhaps, chagrined.

“Neither Gretchen nor your mother is obligated to re-enter a marriage with me if she does not wish to be in one. You have to be prepared for that.”

“I am, father.”

A too quick reply. “You are not. You will be heart-broken. You do not understand what that means because you are a girl who is well-loved and well-cared for.” She opened her mouth to retort, but he silenced her with a wave of his fingers.

“Marriage is more than pretty make-up and snogging, Aurora.”

“You snogged?” Aurora exclaimed, leaping out of her chair.

Severus felt his cheeks get hot but merely glared at his daughter. “I thought Gretchen had told you as much.”

Rori froze, looking around the room as though she had lost something important and was trying to remember where she’d left it. She took a deep breath, the sort of breath Hermione might take before reciting too much verbatim data from a book too quickly, but Severus quietly commanded Rori to _sit_ , and she did.

“Was it like when Uncle Harry kisses Aunt Ginny?”

Severus rolled his eyes. “You will refrain from analogizing me or your mother or Gretchen to Harry and Ginny Potter for the rest of your life or I will cut out your tongue and nail it to your bedroom door.”

Then, it was Rori’s turn to roll her eyes. She waited while Severus shook his head, trying to remember why he had brought her in here.

“My point, if you’ll allow me to make it, fair daughter, is that I am neither angry nor am I going to prohibit further action. However, be advised that I will be paying closer attention to both your actions and your intentions in the future.”

Rori was nodding along with him before he was even halfway through the first sentence. She had heard this chastisement before, countless times.

Severus was about to continue when there was a knock on the door. From the other side, Gretchen announced, “The weird not-clock says you two are plotting. It had better not be against me.”

Rising from his chair, Severus opened the door and waved Gretchen through. “We wouldn’t dream of it. You’re much too clever for us.”

Shifting her staff to her other hand, Gretchen squeezed onto the sofa with Rori, who had hopped up into the centre after her exclamation. “Two lies in the same breath, Severus. Very impressive.” She was looking at Rori, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“If you are so sure, than why don’t you elucidate your theory?” Severus crossed his arms and waited, his face turning down as though he was impatient for a student to produce his assignment.

Gretchen opened her mouth to reply but frowned when nothing came out. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “I’ll work it out.”

Rori and Severus shared a look, and Severus mouthed ‘Gryffindor’ as Rori whispered it. Thus provoked, Gretchen reached out and tickled Rori’s ribs, concluding the night’s more serious affairs.


	21. Chapter 20

Gretchen sat in a bath and spread her toes around the faucet. She felt lost, timid, and thrilled in both the best and worst ways.

She could see the steam floating up around her, and the only light in the room was a few candles. She wished it was the mist of her mind swirling around the room, but it had been weeks since New Year’s and the fog neither came in nor out.

Gretchen stroked her beautiful staff where it rested across the tub. She was trying to read it again and again, only she didn’t see all the runes all the time. She was teetering back and forth, sometimes retreating into herself, and sometimes retreating into herself.

No. That couldn’t be right.

It was thoughts like those that were putting everyone on edge these days. They were all cooped up together, Severus was jealous of her and Rori all the time now, although she couldn’t always tell whether he wanted Rori back or Hermione.

Gretchen had caught him gazing at her when he thought her distracted. She knew Rori was feeling that, too, in addition to being ten, pre-pubescent, trapped in the house in the middle of a cold Scottish winter, and caught between one woman and one man and one memory that couldn’t seem to hold water.

Gretchen’s feet dropped into the water.

Severus and Rori were off visiting Draco and _Scorpius_ and the wife… Wisteria?

Something. These people and their names. Although… _Hermione…_ She rolled her eyes.

Gretchen was enjoying the large bath in the dark in the small room, really. The world outside the bath didn’t matter at the moment, and she was putting her mind to other places.

Her secret place. Sometimes she felt the watchful eye of Severus, could imagine him an unmoving vulture, and she wanted to do something without him. She didn’t like the idea of sneaking around, but she liked to try this idea she had, and…

She imagined she was toeing the tide between where she was Gretchen and where she was Hermione. She felt drunk and a bit dizzy. Her black-lacquered toenails, courtesy of Rori, blurred and then came back into focus.

In her imagination, Severus’s words drifted through her thoughts.

 _I’ve come for_ my _necklace._

Gretchen’s eyes flashed open, and she reached for the phoenix charm on her neck. When she felt the warm silver, her hand brushed the phoenix on her pelvis, and she sank lower in the water. She reached for the charm, a tangible thing, and with one hand on her staff and the phoenix between her fingers, she could feel grounded again.

An image of a sooty, sweating Neville came to mind. He was much younger, and he presented his creation shyly.

When he had come for Christmas, he had given her a well-worn book of photographs, mostly from their school days. They moved as the ones from the mantel did. She had looked and looked. Rori had told her about some of the people from the pictures, but she only really knew the obvious ones.

Gretchen had been more interested in puzzling out who was not anyone she had already met.

Rolling in the tub, she held her breath under water as long as she could. Thinking about that day made her feel trapped in place, in a way, as though she had lead shoes and they got heavier with each step. Her hair drifted in front of her face, tangling in itself when she finally gasped for air, water splashing over the side.

She coughed, remembering she was in Severus’s cottage, in the bath, in reality. Gretchen flinched, and looked over the side of the tub: the floor was dry. That couldn’t be right. She wished it was brighter in the room, and the candles pulled apart until they were doubled, the wicks and flames appearing out of nowhere.

Magic.

Gretchen reached for a cloth and dried her face.

Neville was a good friend. He was… well, he had become sort of handsome, and he loved her, she could tell, but he was completely prepared to take her for who she had become, and not who she had been. He was the only one. Everyone, herself included, was waiting for something more. Neville was astonishing in his way with her.

Gretchen wondered how he’d got so good at this.

Her staff rolled a bit as she shifted her knees. The wood shone in the damp, and the twisting tendrils at the top looked a bit like fire in the candle light.

_I was once a very bad man._

A chill ran down her spine as Severus’s early words trotted through her imagination. Gretchen thought of the man she had seen in Severus’s imagination, in the _Legilimens_. He certainly looked very bad. Gretchen thought about Harry’s mum and Severus and Rori, and she tried to imagine what a spurned Severus would do.

Imagining what Severus could do, _would_ do was one of Gretchen’s favourite pastimes, although it was usually when she was alone that she gave herself the license to do so. She remembered, time and again, how he had just dipped into her mind on the first day.

He could do the _Legilimens_ any time he liked.

It was terrifying and thrilling.

Gretchen closed her eyes, trying to meditate.

She was on a beach, after dusk. There was a bit of sea foam on the tide when it brushed over her toes. She was waiting for someone. She knew better than to look. Looking would just keep her away. She felt the water on her toes.

Then a hand, the mirror of hers, entwined her fingers. She felt as if she were falling into sleep, but she fought to keep in the meditative place.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She was there. They were together.

This was not the first time she had tried this. Dozens of trials and dozens of failures. Tonight, though, she felt the strong grip on her fingers, and it anchored her.

This was terrifying and exhilarating. 

She hadn’t told anyone of her little experiments. She hadn’t told anyone about the potions she’d been brewing. She hadn’t told anyone, just like the headmaster wanted.

Hermione opened her eyes, expecting to see her toes lacquered pink like Lavender liked, but they were black. Was this from the time turner? This wasn’t the prefects’ bath…

She swore to herself as she realised her mistake. It was ruined now. She could feel the magic unwinding itself. The tide was carrying her out again.

She clutched at the fingers as they pulled away. She grabbed at her wand, but couldn’t find it. Like dawn on the sea, the lit fog swept in. She used to love the fog, but now she knew it kept them apart.

Swearing again, Hermione pounded her fists, not that it mattered. She swore in her mind and fought to calm herself. She had lost it, though, and she pursed her lips and blinked back the tears. When she was calm again, feeling as dry as if she’d been stranded on an island and not caught on a raft, she noticed she still felt the touch of the other hand.

That was a new phenomenon. Not for the first time, Hermione put her trust in something she couldn’t fathom, and began to wonder again about her husband and daughter. She worried less about what she was missing. She was there now, the memories were in her somewhere.

She worried about the toll on them: the toll of not having a mother, the toll of being close to what Severus wanted but was denying himself. There was a cost in having what you chose when it wasn’t what you wanted. There would always be a sadness, a grief for what might have been.

To unwind their story, though, would be to unravel the whole world. What sent her away was also what had brought them together, what had borne Aurora into the world.

Better to have it done, than suffer something much worse.

Hermione moved to sit in the shallows of the tide. The sand and mud held her into place as the tide lowered. She looked again at her black toes, at her naked body with the phoenix brand, and then her staff.

The bath was empty now. Gretchen flicked her fingers at the window, and winter cold air came in where the warm steam rushed out. She wrapped herself in a towel and her dressing gown, slid her feet into the warm slippers Hermione’s – _her_ parents had given her, and shook her fingers through her loosely cropped curls.

A cuppa was in order. Mechanically, she took her staff and walked downstairs, prepared a quick sandwich while the kettle brewed. Once everything was on a tray, she moved to carry it back to her bedroom, but her eye was caught by a beam of light.

On the mantel in a glass box was her wand. Gretchen remembered frantically grabbing for it during her dream in the bath. She hadn’t thought about it in weeks, _months_ ; she had her staff, and wands were really more theoretical for her anyway. Setting the tray on the table in front of the couch, she remembered her first day.

Again, it captivated her. Again she moved for it without thinking. On the first day, Gretchen had been sure it was a bad idea to wrap her hand around the wooden wand, but _now_ it seemed like one of those perfectly reasonable ideas that so frequently got her in trouble at school. She lifted the glass box away, and once again the wand began to shake and sizzle.

This time, though, Gretchen had her staff at hand, and after securing the case on the mantel, she withdrew just far enough from the wand to bring her staff in front of her. She didn’t notice when her towel dropped to the floor, only starting the sequence that she had first learned with Albus. Once she was centred, she moved her staff to the side with her left hand, and stroked the fingertips of her right hand from the base of the now-trembling wand to the tip. When her fingers met the end, a spark cracked.

Gretchen turned to look at her staff. At the top, in the twisting tendrils that had always reminded her of fire, a blue ball of flame hovered. It didn’t seem to burn the wood of her staff, luckily. Smiling, she drew her finger away from the wand, and watched as the staff stayed alight. It burned softly until she drew her palm away.

It shrank into nothingness. Gretchen’s lip curled up, and she stroked her wand again, feeling now the gently curved carvings at the handle. When she again reached the tip of her wand, there was a quiet crack. She was unsurprised to look up and see her staff on fire once more.

She watched it, a small smile forming, until the clock struck. Gretchen jumped, and looked between the time clock and the location clock, and found that the hour was late and Severus would be coming home soon enough – his arm of the clock read ‘smoking’, which Gretchen knew came always at the end of his time with Draco.

She dropped her staff just long enough to put out the flame. Confident that it had gone out, she replaced the glass case over her wand, trying her best to leave no evidence of tampering.

Then, she turned and took up her tray again. She took the stairs in a hurry, and arriving in the study area of their room, Gretchen sat and devoured the sandwich. After, she felt her heart and breathing slow. She could only guess that this is what people felt when they rode roller coasters. Or when a rabbit was sure it was being hunted by a fox.

Gretchen reached for her tea and began to sip, ears tuned to the sound of Severus bringing Rori home. At the end of the cup, her eyes began to burn, and her chest felt tight. She stood, slung her staff across her back in the silken, soft harness, and crawled on top of Severus’s bed.

Sleep came quickly, curled around blankets gathered beneath her body, and she was deep asleep long before the pillow was soaked with silent tears.

* * *

One week later, standing in front of the full-length mirror next to his wardrobe, Severus felt Gretchen's eyes on his back. He had donned his teaching robes and was now working each of the buttons through their holes by hand. He remembered, now, why he used to use magic for this bit, but now was not the time for that.

It was a week after he'd found a wet towel in front of his mantel where Hermione's wand was kept, and she had been watching him carefully ever since. Even now, she was in a reading posture, but he could see in the mirror that she watching him and not the turning pages.

In some ways she hadn't changed at all.

Severus had married a hoodlum. She'd been twelve years old when she'd landed in a bed of Devil's Snare and then gotten herself out again. That wasn’t even the worst thing she’d done that year. Hermione Granger was a ne’er do well.

Unfortunately for her, she was complete shit at sneaking about, even now.

Severus found it a bit amusing, really. He had known something had transpired with Hermione's wand before he'd even gotten all the way through the front door last week. He had spent years surrounded by students expanding their magic at Hogwarts, and he'd watched Rori's whole magical life develop before his eyes.

Then, when he'd woken her to move from his bed to her own, he had been reminded of so much of Hermione's youth. The slope of her eyebrows and her too-still mouth had spoken volumes to him. She might as well have been pinching from his stores that night. What Gretchen or Hermione might be up to, he could not imagine.

Gretchen must have been in a true state, forgetting the obvious: the towel on the floor. 

In turn, though, he had his own plans, and now, as he had done so many times, he was about to take this hoodlum to see her Head of House.

Minerva McGonagall had long since retired from her role at Hogwarts, and now lived in London where she could easily get to and from St. Mungo's where she consulted on Transfiguration accidents, and chatted with some of the long term patients of the wizarding hospital.

Though some of them could remember very little, many of them always remembered her.

Severus knew _he_ would never forget his years as a student with her, the hard purse of her mouth as he failed, or the shallow nod of approval, mouth still pursed, when he succeeded. He had skipped breakfast, his stomach was in such knots over what he was about to do. It was as though he had spent weeks and months working on a Transfiguration project due today, and he could not guess if he was to be successful.

Of course, Gretchen knew nothing. Gretchen never knew anything. This was the greatest struggle of the house at present: getting Gretchen up to speed.

Severus licked his lips and took a short inhale. "Gretchen, we need to talk," he said, exhaling his short breath and hearing his voice turn to a sigh.

As he turned, he watched her body stiffen, alert to all threats. "Do we?"

"You've been performing magic without supervision, young lady." Severus took a long step toward her. The whip of his robes caught her attention, and her eye darted to it, even as her body stayed still.

Gretchen was sitting in _his_ armchair, reading a much outdated  Hogwarts: A History. She looked up at him as he approached, and Severus loomed over her. He watched her pupils go wide, the too-wide look that sometimes meant that she was not her whole self.

Or, perhaps, it meant she _was_.

"I have the evidence in my office." This much was true. He'd had the towel washed, and it now sat in one of the drawers behind his desk. Severus was hoping she'd realise her mistake, but to date she had not.

"I don't know what you mean," Gretchen said.

Her words were measured, slow, and quiet. This was likely true. Severus pressed on. "If you refuse to admit what you have done, young lady, we'll simply have to see what your Head of House has to say about it."

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to her feet. Severus plucked her staff from its resting spot and hurried them down the stairs. He did not stop for cloaks, as they were both in robes, and Severus needed this to go smoothly. Once they were out the door, he grabbed Gretchen around the waist, pulling her to his body, and Apparated them away.

As the ground solidified beneath his feet, Severus turned and rested his hands on Gretchen's shoulders. "Take half a step back, and to the right, I think,” he insisted, guiding her.

She looked up a bit, but her eyes were caught by the long row of shiny black buttons. "My right?" Gretchen asked as she moved. She was obviously dizzy, and she held his arms as she got herself settled.

Severus looked between her and the door and nodded.

Then, without intending to, he straightened the shoulders of her robes. His hands automatically adjusted the seams of his robes, as well. Finally, Severus moved to stand between Gretchen and the door, blocking her view of what was to come. Gripping the handle of the copper knocker, he rapped three times with some force.

It took a long moment for the door to swing open. Behind it, a spry old bird stood. She was smiling, looking intently for Rori. When the girl was not there, she narrowed her gaze at Severus.

Just as she opened her mouth, Severus cleared his throat. "Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Severus droned as he tried to keep the sudden spike of adrenaline in his body under control. He kept his voice monotone. Along with his demeanour, it became very condescending. "I have something here I think you should see."

Minerva’s eyes looked him over, quick as she was forty years ago. "What’s this, then, Snape? I thought you said someone wanted to see me."

"Why don't you just ask her yourself!" Severus demanded, stepping to the side as he pulled Gretchen forward.

Gretchen, like so many students before her, met Minerva's eyes with abject horror. "Please, Professor McGonagall, don't expel me!"

Minerva gasped, pulling one hand into a fist over her heart as the other clutched the door frame. Her face was white at first, and then shone red across her cheeks. "Severus Snape, what is the meaning of this!" Her lips were drawn so tightly together her mouth had nearly disappeared.

Severus did not answer. He just waited as the two women watched each other.

Gretchen, losing the momentum of being pushed and pulled by him, leaned heavily on her staff, holding it with both hands. She sank into a meditation, but her eyes never broke from Minerva's. Around them, a softly lit mist grew at their ankles.

"Professor?" Gretchen asked, disbelieving.

"Miss Granger?" Minerva croaked. She leaned forward, her hand unfolding over her heart as she began to reach out. "It can't be. Where have you been?"

"Oh, here and there, I suppose." She released one hand from her staff and moved toward Minerva. She had all of the grace of someone who was well pissed. Unready to move as she liked just yet, her body lurched forward.

Fearing a fall, Minerva stepped forward to catch her hand in a withered but strong grasp. The two then pulled close, Gretchen's free arm over Minerva's shoulder as she held her staff away, never breaking the connection.

Minerva's arms came around her back, and they stayed that way for a long, quiet minute. It wouldn’t last. When Minerva buried her eyes in the younger witch’s robes, Severus looked away. His listened hard for breathing, hearing a quiet catch as the matron fought for composure.

When she collected herself, Minerva brusquely announced needing to put the kettle on, and nearly dragged the young woman across the threshold. She did not let go of her hand until she was firmly sat at the kitchen table.

~~~

After plucking up a short stack of biscuits and his cup of tea, Severus excused himself from the table. He sat in the window seat and covertly watch the proceedings from the side-lines.

He’d observed a healthy drop of whisky temper Minerva's tea cup before she poured the others full to the brim. He might as well be invisible for all of the notice Gretchen and Minerva were giving him. He also watched as the bloody fog followed in through the cracks in the door frame, the only one noticing it settle around the well-worn furnishings.

As he sat back, chewing his bite of biscuit, Severus began to unbutton the first, very high buttons of his old teaching robes. He let his thoughts roll out as he half-listened. Gretchen had said nothing about his dress, had only just watched him, as if he were a cauldron or a thestral. She had mentioned to him before Christmas that she sometimes hallucinated that he was a vulture or crow.

Nothing seemed to boil over for her in this ruse, though. It was lucky, a win after a slight gamble. The women chuckled from across the room, and Minerva got up to refill her cup. As she brought the teapot to the table, Gretchen spared a glance in Severus's direction.

Her eyes were watery, and she smiled. That was watery, as well. Odd, since the meeting with her parents had been less emotional for her. Perhaps _not_ odd, given all that Gretchen had seen and done in the intervening months. Minerva had always had a way with the Muggle-borns, too, and when Hermione had become his bride…

Minerva freshened Gretchen's cup, and as though a lesson had been called to begin, Gretchen straightened, engaged once again.

Severus let his eye wander toward the clock, seeing that the morning was nearly over. Minerva had laid out cheese and crackers, biscuits and little cakes, jam and bread. Gretchen’s plate was never empty for very long.

He looked Gretchen over for any sign of tiredness. As if on cue, she stretched and yawned, excusing herself to the loo. As she walked down a short hall, the fog wafted after her.

This was his opportunity to draw Minerva's attention to the magic that followed Gretchen, and Severus stood, moving to take a seat at the table.

"You nearly gave an old witch a coronary event, Severus," Minerva scolded. She sounded tired, but not terribly angry. “I was looking forward to seeing Rori! And you show up in this _costume_ and act like a miserable sod!”

Severus watched as more and more of the fog disappeared behind the door to the loo. "Regrettable, but necessary, Minerva."

"I hate hearing you say that. So reminiscent of dark days."

A sad smile skittered across Severus's face. "As she is, perhaps." He grabbed another biscuit before saying, "Rori says 'hello', of course. She loves her Christmas books."

Minerva sniffed. "Her mother loved them, as well, if I recall correctly. Although, that, now, seems to be moot."

"Not at all. You received at your door this morning a positively primed, dizzy woman who you might recognise to be Hermione Granger. I will warn you now that she is rarely ever the woman you met this morning. Even now, I think, you will see a change," Severus said, his voice lowering as door to the loo opened.

When Gretchen appeared at the end of the hallway, she was sheepish. She yawned, turning away as her mouth opened wider and wider. To Severus, it was obvious that Hermione was back behind the mists.

Minerva turned to look and frowned. "Come and sit, dear.”

Dark curls tumbled as Gretchen's chin dropped, perhaps feeling again like a girl called before her teacher. Before she sat, she touched the side of the table.

"She's¬ – if she was here, Hermione has gone. I'm sorry."

"Have some tea, dear." Minerva patted the place in front of where Gretchen had been sitting. Her tone brooked no argument, and Severus watched Gretchen obey, even taking a sip of tea. Minerva stood and got the whisky from the cabinet. She topped off everyone's cup. "You'll find, dear, as I have found these 83 years, that you lose and find yourself more often than you think. That's just life."

Severus watched as the idea sunk in, and then tucked a curl behind Gretchen's ear. She started, but smiled at him, still shy. As she looked at him, he made a point to look at her face, at her shoulders, to let her look at him while he looked at her.

Across the table, Minerva cleared her throat. "Cups up," she directed. "To sneaking snakes and courageous lions."

Minerva’s put her tea back the fastest. Sniffing, she filled her cup again, foregoing any show of adding tea, and took a long, slow swallow from her cup. Her gaze turned away from the two and out the window, where cold winter afternoon was shining through.

Severus tipped his cup back, taking the rest of his in one go, as well. He set his cup on the tray and sent the tea things to the kitchen with a twist of his wand. The activity caught Minerva’s eye, and she watched Gretchen raise her cup to her lips.

Under the full focus of the others in the room, Gretchen’s cheeks grew warm, and she took a large pull from her cup. She coughed a bit as she swallowed, cheeks glowing ever pinker.

Looking between the women, Severus thought they were silently communicating something. For a moment, he wished he’d paid better attention to their chat.

“Stay as long as you’d like, but I’m afraid you’ll have to see yourselves out. I don’t normally have my _tea_ so early in the day.”

Severus’s lip curled. “We certainly wouldn’t want you to break a hip, Minerva.”

“Nor I you, Severus. Isn’t that right, girl?”

At that, Gretchen drank her tea to the bottom, properly embarrassed from the whole affair. Minerva’s deep Scottish accent was beginning to show, and she chuckled to herself a fair bit. Severus was reminded of far too many a late night in the staff lounge, and knew to call it a day.

He stood and helped Gretchen to her feet. Despite the implication that she was sauced, Minerva stood, too, pulling Gretchen close to her once more. She whispered something to her and then, pulled away. Severus handed Gretchen’s staff to her and let her walk ahead of him, leaving Minerva in her flat.

Once they were beyond the door, Gretchen stepped close to his body, preparing for Apparation as she always had, with her arms tight around his body.

He returned the gesture, and took them home.

~~~

In the house, Gretchen was slow to release him. Instead, she began to touch the buttons of his robes.

They stood just inside the door, and with the whisky on their breath, it felt like the conclusion of a very nice date.

Severus stood, his arms loose at his sides, as Gretchen touched the buttons at her eye level.

“Professor– Minerva recommended I try to seduce you. She said that, erm…”

“Minerva is a vulgar lech if ever there was one. I’ve heard stories that would curl your toes.”

Gretchen looked up at him, shock written on every feature. “She did say she hasn’t always been 83 years old.” Returning her eyes to his buttons, her face turned more thoughtful.

“You children never seem to understand that adults have been at this all much longer than you have.” Severus lifted his hand, smoothing curls away from her face.

She froze, her eyes turning up to meet his. “Do you think I’m attractive?” she blurted out. Her eyes squeezed shut, as if catching up to what her mouth had just said. Gretchen tried to pull away from him, but he moved a hand out to her, just under her ribs at the side, which stopped her.

Severus licked his lips, and put them by her ear. “You are more than adequately symmetrical, and rather lithe, I’ve noticed.”

That caused her to swallow, and her skin grew quite warm.

“But not until you are my wife, Gretchen.”

“What if I can’t be her?” she whispered back.

“You already are in so many ways.”

Severus felt her fingers press the buttons again. “What if it might help?” she asked, daring to look up at him again.

“What if it might hinder? Who is to say?”

“We are. We are to say. She’s in here, I know, and she misses you. I miss you, and we’ve never even…”

“You spend more time in my bed than I do.”

At that, she pulled a face. Sticking her tongue out at him, Gretchen curled her lip at him. “I find these robes very attractive.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you have a very lovely timber in your voice when you choose to use it.”

“I’m also aware of that.”

“And I like your nose.”

“Jones, flattery will get you positively nowhere.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m aware.”

At last, she shoved him away from her at his shoulders. “I’ll have a bath, then!”

“If you must.”

Her only reply was to stick her tongue out once more. She turned, grumbling as she tromped up the stairs and away from him. Severus watched her every step, and when she disappeared, touched the buttons where her fingers had just been.


	22. Chapter 21

Sliding her staff back into its harness, Gretchen braced herself to spend the day with Draco Malfoy and his son, Scorpius, who would both be arriving shortly for a so-called 'play date.' Apart from the slide of satin over smooth, polished wood, the house was quiet. Severus was gone for the day on some vague business he was being quite mysterious about. Meanwhile, Rori had spent the time after her father's departure in her room, leaving Gretchen to rattle about the kitchen and sitting room without aim. She attempted to tidy up, but it was all for naught.

She wished she was as quiet inside of herself as the house around her. When she finally lost patience, Gretchen stopped in the sitting room and worked to find a meditative place. She used the pits and valleys in her staff to change her focus, and her fingertips moving from the base to the handle to the top. She caressed the twisting tendrils where the fire had been. They were pristine.

Gretchen smoothed the palm of her hand back to the middle of her staff. The body was not pristine. They had recently taken a fourth rubbing of the runes, and Gretchen had given up trying to make sense of them. Now, too, there were vines coiling up from the bottom. Rori had noticed the similarities to Hermione’s wand.

If her staff was transforming to reflect her wand, no one dared remark on it.

A strong knock at the front door jerked Gretchen from her reverie. She called out, and then slid the harness across her body. When the strap rested against her smoothly, she took a deep breath and moved to the door.

She could not hide her surprise when she opened the door. While Gretchen had intellectually understood that Scorpius, age three-but-nearly-four, was joining his father today, she had not been ready for the reality of it. That Draco Malfoy was someone's father did not make sense to her. That she opened the door to him and found a miniature Malfoy bundled in his arms could not be explained.

Something inside of her rattled, a soft crackle of warning deep within her. Gretchen had no buffer from Draco Malfoy and his ways.

As Gretchen let Draco and Scorpius into the house, Rori ran to hug Draco. It was as though she appeared out of nowhere. In the blink of an eye, Gretchen found herself holding Scorpius so that Draco could lift Rori into the air.

Gretchen, as a rule, didn't hold children. It was one of those curiosities about her that made other people wary. Rori had been the only child that she had ever... cared for. Scorpius was in her hands though, wriggling and leaning ever closer and reaching for one of her thicker curls. In her confusion, she shook her head, which only enticed Scorpius more. He reached again and again for her. 

Rori squeezed Draco tightly, and Draco looked over to Gretchen with that horrid smirk of his that stuck out in her memory. What a bittersweet thing to be able to recall that.

As Draco set Rori on the floor again, he held back a laugh. The two pairs were a strange reflection of each other.

While Gretchen was distracted, Scorpius suddenly lunged for her hair, grabbing it in his pale fist. Making sure not to drop him, Gretchen wrapped her arms around his fat little body. He was as secure in her hold as her hair was in his hand.

"He’s shy, but he loves curly hair,” Draco said, laughing in earnest.

Gretchen tried to extract her hair from Scorpius’s little fingers, pulling her head away as gently as she could. Fortunately, Rori was excited to play with the 'baby' today, and Scorpius was soon distracted by her snapping fingers, smiles, and coos.

Scorpius lunged for her after a moment, and Rori caught him up with practiced ease. She removed his cloak with one hand, passing it to Draco. She whirled the little boy to and fro until he was giggling riotously, and then took him to the couch. Rori pretended to toss him on the cushions.

It must have been a much-loved game, but each time Rori reached to catch the baby, Gretchen gasped.

“I’d never have guessed you to be so nervous around small kids…”

Draco’s voice slithered into her ear, and Gretchen nearly jumped out of her skin. Turning back to Draco, she found he had hung up his and Scorpius's cloaks, and now had a small rucksack on his shoulder. He set it on the table, pulling out a plush dragon, a very small toy broom, and a blanket. Then, he picked up the broom and tapped it with his wand.

Gretchen marvelled as it floated between Rori and Scorpius. It wasn’t long before he was reaching out to grab it. He began to bounce and laugh. Each time Scorpius’s little hand came close to the broom, it would fly just out of reach. Soon, he was climbing all over the sofa trying to reach it.

For Gretchen, it was as if she were watching a daredevil. Every step that Scorpius took was riddled with danger. The last straw was when he nearly leapt off the sofa trying to catch the damned broom. Before she knew it, she was moving to catch him.

As was Draco. He scooped the boy up and spun him through the air. Scorpius, oblivious to any danger, let out gales of laughter. Meanwhile, Rori reached out and nabbed the broom.

In her hand, the little toy seemed to settle down.

Draco smiled at Rori. “That’s my little Seeker.”

Gretchen flinched. “Wha–? What do you mean, ‘Seeker’?”

Rori let the little broom go again, working it up so that it was flying just beyond her reach, and said, “In Quidditch, it’s the position that chases the Snitch.”

“What’s Quidditch?”

Draco snorted, but Rori just grabbed the broom again and said, “It’s a game, well, a sport really. Kind of like footie, but with an extra speedy ball that one player from each side tries to catch. That usually wins the game.”

“All while riding _flying brooms_ , Jones. Isn’t that lovely?”

“Flying brooms? Absolutely not. You’re not riding a broom in the sky chasing a ball. You’ll kill yourself.”

Rori looked at Gretchen as though she’d stolen Christmas. “But Draco and I play all the time. And Uncle Harry and I do!” Then, pleading, she looked to Draco. It was equal parts betrayed, for letting the bit about the brooms ‘slip,’ but also as a child seeking vindication from an adult.

Draco tossed Scorpius a couple times before pulling him close and kissing him. “Everyone learns to ride a broom, Jones. She can’t be a witch if she doesn’t.”

“That’s not true,” Gretchen said with certainty. She was having a sense of déjà vu, though, as if Draco had lorded this over her before.

“Well, where do you learn, then?”

“At Hogwarts, of course.” Draco sneered at her and reached out to stroke Rori’s hair. “But she rides my broom, and I sit behind her. Potter, too, I presume.”

Rori, the traitor, stepped close to Draco, and asked, "Can I take Scorpius to my room, please, Draco?"

He passed the boy to Rori without a second thought. "If you like, but leave the door open, please."

Gretchen watched as Rori bounced the boy on her hip and smiled and waved her fingers at him. With no obvious effort, she disappeared up the stairs without even a glance at Gretchen.

Gretchen stared after her for a while after she disappeared.

"Why, yes, I _would_ love a cup of tea, Jones. You're a marvellous hostess."

"Piss off," Gretchen grumbled, leaving him by the door as she moved to the kitchen to make tea. Luck was not with her, though, as Draco followed her and sat at the table in the chair closest to the doorway. He was turned so that he could listen upstairs.

Putting the kettle on, she pursed her lips. He was in the chair Gretchen usually took. She was feeling particularly off balance. She’d never been summarily dismissed by Rori. It made Gretchen feel… unsafe.

Draco didn't speak again until the tea was on the table and Gretchen had moved to sit in Severus's chair at the head of the table.

"Tell me, Jones, have you ever considered motherhood?"

Gretchen looked up from her cup, her lip curling at the git.

"What a _Malfoy_ thing to say."

"You don't know anything about being a Malfoy, Jones. You didn't even know there were Malfoys this time last year." Draco leaned forward, sneering at her.

She sneered back at him. "Congratulations on surpassing my extremely low expectations for the day. I thought you'd at least say more than four sentences to me before acting like an arse."

Draco smiled. "You know who was an excellent mother? Hermione Granger. Now, there was a real mum."

"All things considered, you sound like a loon."

"Did you know, _Jones_ , that the first time I ever held a baby, it was Granger's? Can you imagine?"

Gretchen didn't respond. She just stared at him through the steam from her tea.

"Why don't you try, just try to imagine that moment when Hermione Granger let me hold her precious little Aurora. I’m rather partial to my Scorpius, of course, but Aurora was an absolute poppet when she was new."

"Do you think you're helping? Do you think this is what I need to... integrate?"

Setting his teacup down, Draco smiled an evil, Buckbeak-condemning smile. "Unlike some fools, Jones, I don't think it can be done," he whispered. "You don't know anything about being a mum. You don't know anything about Hermione Granger. You're a husk, hiding in your little Muggle flat."

His words cut her. Cuts upon cuts that she could nearly remember but not quite. She reached behind her where her staff was hooked on the chair with the harness.

"I have to say, though, you are very fit, Jones. My wife never was the same after her pregnancy. Her hips got wider. Her waist did, too. Her breasts hang now... You, however, look freshly _hatched._ "

Gretchen held her staff upright in her hand, striking it on the floor beside her kitchen chair. When she looked across the table again, Draco was staring back at her, much older than she remembered. It was her turn to smirk.

"Your staff's alight," he whispered, now in awe.

She didn't say anything, didn't move. She heard footsteps far away. She dared not even blink. She looked at Draco as he looked at her. In the kitchen, the smell of steam coming off their teacups was gone. In its place was the scent of fog on a campfire.

Time slowed for her.

In her imagination, she reached out for a hand to hold. She was not on the island, now, like she had been before. Instead, they were standing back to back in the fog. Fingers clasped. More footsteps came from far away, and a child was crying.

She blinked.

The mist had grown into a rain, and it sizzled and snapped in the fire. Then, the snapping was in front of her face.

She looked up, and Draco, older and looking panicked, held a red-faced child, as he leaned over her.

"It's about bloody time, Jones," he said as her eyes blinked open. “I was starting to question my Charms work.” He brushed her hair away from her forehead and tears from her cheeks.

Then he turned and did the same to the little boy at his side.

She was laying on the kitchen floor. "Aurora?" she croaked.

"Through the floo to Hogwarts. You seemed to be listening to his cries, so I kept him here. You gave everyone quite the scare."

Her arms felt like lead, but she managed to lift her hand to her face. "I remember everything that ever happened between us. Your threats about the basilisk. The slap. You letting me into the boys' loo when I was so pregnant. You coming into our quarters to hold Rori while she cried so I could just eat a bloody sandwich."

"Don't get up." Draco stood, hiking Scorpius onto his hip while he went to the living room for a cushion. When he came back, he set Scorpius to stand on the floor. Draco lifted her head and slid the pillow below. "You remember being petrified?"

Gretchen blinked.

" _Petrified?_ No. I remember you in the hallway telling everyone you hoped the basilisk would kill me. It was terrifying, but not ‘petrifying’."

Draco frowned. "You only remember the parts of the story that I am in for you."

Before she could answer, Severus strode into the kitchen. He was preceded by a cold gust of air that chilled her, and the click of his boots rattled in her head. It was as though she was experiencing those senses for the first time. His scent with the cool winter air was clean and refreshing but everything was too loud.

Draco stepped away, pulling Scorpius with him to stand by the counter. Severus scooped her up into his arms. Her body rolled toward his, and she took a deep breath of him.

After a moment, he lowered her legs, helping her to stand. He inspected her carefully, his eyes flitting over every inch of her. His hands stroked her hair, at last, and came to rest over her ears.

"Why must you always be so brash?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Gretchen snorted softly, feeling her blood settle back into her body. A pale hand passed a biscuit under her nose. Severus took it, breaking away a small piece. She opened her mouth just a bit, and soon the sugars were melting onto her tongue. When she had swallowed the morsel, she said, "Draco started it."

"Then he can brew a fresh pot of tea." Behind her, Draco began to bustle around the kitchen.

Severus led her to the sofa, where she sat, waiting for fresh, hot tea. They were followed by Scorpius who toddled around, looking at his surroundings with wonder. When he came around the sofa, he gripped the sides of her denims and tried to pull himself up.

Draco lifted Scorpius and sat him on his own lap at the opposite end of the sofa. Scorpius had no time for his father, though, and walked the short distance to Gretchen. He pushed his way into her arms, resting his head on her shoulder before falling fast asleep.

Gretchen stared first at the blond boy and then out into the room. She didn’t want to look at Draco or Severus. They, however, seemed to be focused exclusively on her.

“You will explain,” Severus said after Gretchen had finished her tea. It was a strong command, and she could hear the restraint in his voice.

Without thinking, she stroked her fingers through Scorpius’ hair. “We hold hands sometimes.”

Severus’s raised eyebrow spurred her forward. 

“If Hermione is my core self, I find my inner space and I reach… in. She’s reaching for me as well.”

“And your staff.”

“Well, I don’t bloody know about staves, do I!”

“Draco says it was on fire, but there’s no sign of burning.”

“That’s been my observation, as well.”

“Do not play coy with _me_ , Gretchen Jones.”

Severus’s voice had gone dangerously soft. She looked up at him. He was terrifying, a vulture of a man. She whispered as much.

Tension was thick in the room, until Albus’s voice came through the Floo.

“Severus? I have a young lady here who is very curious and even more worried for her… home.”

The vulture turned his head to one side and then looked again at Gretchen. “Is it safe for my daughter to be near… _you_?”

Gretchen nodded, suddenly desperate to run her fingers through dark curls instead of platinum corn silk. She moved the sleeping child into her lap, his head more against the side of the sofa to make room for Rori.

When she came back through the floo, she started toward Gretchen but stopped short. Her eyes were full of tears, and she looked at Scorpius with a jealous sneer.

Gretchen beckoned Rori to her with complete urgency. Rori climbed on the sofa between Gretchen and Draco, and Gretchen pulled her close. She put her lips to Rori’s temple and then she brushed her cheek on Rori’s soft, dark curls.

Rori rubbed her eyes and looked up at Gretchen. “I’m sorry. I won’t play Quidditch. I won’t be a Seeker. Please, don’t be angry.”

Everyone pause to look at Rori, puzzled by her announcement.

Luckily, Albus had followed her through the floo, announcing his presence by clearing his throat. “When Aurora was attempting to explain what happened, she said that Draco and Gretchen were having a row over Quidditch, and then there was a loud ‘bang.’ Scorpius began to cry, and she brought him downstairs, and she found Draco trying to revive Gretchen.”

“Aurora,” Severus began, but Gretchen broke in.

“Rori, I’m not angry over brooms. You can be a Seeker. You can be anything you like.”

“But, I was cross, and I didn’t say anything to you before I went upstairs, and then there was a bang, and–” Rori stopped to rub her eyes again. She pressed her body into Gretchen’s shoulder, curling up where she could find space around Scorpius. Then her arms went around Gretchen’s neck, and although she was trying very hard not to cry, she was not succeeding.

Gretchen rubbed her back and took a deep breath. The intensity of events was not dissipating, and that uncomfortable rattle seemed to be coming back. Clearing her throat, Gretchen began again. “If… your mum is my core self, I want to find her. Sometimes, I look for her deep inside me. I find my inner space and I reach out to her. She’s reaching for me, as well.

“When I first thought of it, I could barely reach her, no matter how much I wanted to. But, I imagined reaching my hand out for her, and I started to feel fingertips on mine. And, ever since we went to see Harry and Ginny the first time, it’s almost as though I can hold hands with her. We don’t always do it, but more and more.”

On Gretchen’s shoulder, Rori was relaxing, and her sobs were natural and slowing. She seemed to be calming down. Gretchen looked back into the room, and the great, black vulture was gone, but Severus was looming in the centre of the room, a study of black on black.

“When you and your dad went to see Scorpius and Draco last time, your mum and I… met. We were able to hold on for a long time, in a way, and then, I – or we, I suppose – came downstairs, and I tried to touch her wand again, and when I did, my staff caught fire at the top.”

Gretchen was now looking at Severus. In return, he looked at her as though she were increasingly problematic. Albus had moved to look carefully at Hermione’s wand. Draco sat perfectly still, letting the story unfold.

“After you went upstairs, I felt very… tumultuous because Draco was saying things that he thought might get under my skin. He always knows just how to do that, you know.”

“Are you cross with Draco?” Rori asked, turning to look at him, rubbing her now dry eyes.

Gretchen turned her head and looked at him with Rori. “Well, I don’t think ‘cross’ is the right word. Draco and your mom always challenged each other, and, I think, she came out to meet his challenge today.

“Instead of just holding her hand, I imagined we were back to back, supporting each other. And then I planted my staff on the floor, and ‘bang’!”

From across the room, Albus leaned closer to the glass case holding Hermione’s wand. “Draco, what did she look like?”

Draco swallowed. “Well. I dare say we’ve all seen Hermione in full force. This was like that, but… doubled? Her eyes were deeper, brighter, wider. She stared at me, and I…” Draco shook his head. “Then, ‘bang’! She was here, staring at me, like a… cresting tide! And the staff was on fire. Then, the tide broke. She crumpled to the floor. _‘Ennervate’! Ennervate!’_ ”

Everyone was looking at Draco, but Rori turned back to Gretchen. “So, you’re not angry with me?”

“Of course not.”

“And you’re not leaving.”

“I only just got here!”

Rori looked down at her sleeve for a moment. In a very small voice, she asked, “And we’re still friends?”

Gretchen looked at the little girl kneeling next to her and couldn’t find the words. She did _not_ want to be ‘friends’ with Rori, but so much had happened, too much and not enough to call herself the girl’s mother.

Gretchen touched Rori’s chin and when she looked up, nodded softly and smiled. Rori fell forward, throwing her whole weight against Gretchen, and wrapping her arms around her neck. It sounded, at first, as though Rori was thanking her again and again, but it melted into more tears.

* * *

Around the room, everyone took to their own thoughts. Draco watched Gretchen console Rori, but he also watched Scorpius sleeping in Gretchen’s lap. He’d been undisturbed in his sleep through it all. Albus stood at the mantel, hands clasped behind his back, his nose a hair’s breadth from the glass case holding Hermione’s wand. Severus moved to sit in his arm chair, his back rigid as he leaned against the high support of the wingback. His eyes trailed around the room until they landed on Gretchen’s staff.

Time stretched out until Albus took a deep breath and shuffled toward the fireplace. He made a quiet bow to the room and disappeared into the flames. Draco, taking a deep breath for himself, rose and collected Scorpius into his arms. He and Gretchen shared a knowing, if sad, smile, and Draco stroked Rori’s hair back from her face in farewell before proceeding to the door. Severus moved to help him get arranged to go. When they were ready, they shared a silent bow, and Severus eased the door open and shut behind him.

Severus turned, and pointed his wand at the couch. He transfigured it into something more proper for sleeping. He retook his place in his chair once Rori and Gretchen were settled under the blanket he kept on hand for such a occasions.

The kip was normal, mostly. Rori was up after not very long. She moved from her place with Gretchen and crawled into her father’s lap. They didn’t speak, but he held her close and tight. It seemed as though she needed his strength, because she soon started sniffling again, and her shoulders shook against his for a brief time. He stroked her hair and took measured breaths.

Her tide of emotion moved out soon enough. They sat together quietly. Then, Rori sat back from his body, and rubbed her eyes. “I was foolish today,” she whispered.

Severus shook his head. “Nonsense. You are rarely foolish, and never more than is perfectly reasonable,” he whispered back.

Rori frowned and cocked her chin at him. “I don’t want her to go,” she said, quiet as a mouse.

“She’s not going.”

“But I was bad.”

“You were not. You, most of all, are the reason she is here.” Severus leaned close to Rori, keeping their discussion between them. “Never change who you are only to make someone stay. She wants you to be who you are.”

“Because she’s my mum?”

“Perhaps. But even if we never resolve the Janus, even if there are always two sides, you are special to her.”

“I could do more.” Rori frowned and gazed over her knees.

“No, Aurora. You are not responsible for her.” Severus wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close. “Your mother gave everything to protect you, so you could have your chance and be who _you_ are. You are only responsible for doing your best. That is all anyone can do.”

“All right,” Rori conceded with a thick swallow. She relaxed into her father’s arms once more, and sheltered there until the sun was gone from the windows. Just as Severus thought she’d fallen asleep once more, she pushed away from him softly. “I need a shower, I think.”

Severus kissed her forehead and let her go. As she stood, his lap felt cool and empty, and he turned to watch her as she climbed the stairs. When he turned back to the room, he saw Gretchen’s foot was twitching beneath the blanket. He stood and peered over her, seeing a look of distress on her face.

With a last glance after Rori, Severus hustled to sit next to her, checking her forehead for a fever and finding her skin clammy. He clenched his jaw, worried it had been too much. He picked her up and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he laid her in her bed. He took a deep breath and lifted her eyelids up with his thumbs. Peeking into her mind, he found she was running from the basilisk. He shook her shoulders until she woke with a start.

“Holy shit,” she said, panting. Gretchen clutched at the sheets. “There was a slithering sound everywhere. I was in the castle, just running.” She moved to curl up on her side, her words slurring as she tried to go back to sleep.

“Gretchen!” Severus demanded with hushed urgency. “Are you sure you should be going back to sleep? Your nightmare might come back.”

“I’m so tired, Severus. A few more minutes won’t hurt.”

He watched her go back to sleep almost instantaneously. She slept through dinner and barely woke up to give Rori a hug before bed.

It would be the last solid bit of sleep she would get for days. For nights after, every time she slept more than a couple hours she woke from nightmares. Severus had to silence the room to keep from disturbing Rori.

Gretchen was fighting the basilisk. She was being crushed by a troll. She was fighting Bellatrix at the Ministry and losing.

Her memories were the foundations of terrible dreams, and she would wake up screaming and casting inexpert magic. By Sunday, Severus had stopped removing the silencing charms in the morning. It just wasn't worth it day after day. He had a Hogwarts house elf come and cast charms around the room to keep Gretchen from damaging the whole cottage irreparably. If it lasted much longer, he wasn’t sure what he would do.


	23. Chapter 22

Gretchen needed a reprieve from magic, and Severus was going to give it to her. He had one of Hogwarts's house–elves prepare Gretchen's flat. What was adequate for a single woman with no friends or hobbies, books aside, would not serve to hold Gretchen, Rori, and Severus for what he hoped would be about seven days. House–elf magic would make all the difference.

None of Gretchen's things would be changed, but there would be two magical rooms, one each for Severus and Rori to stay in for the duration. Also, as it had been a number of months since anyone had stayed there, her flat was musty. The house–elf took care of that, too, filling the refrigerator and cupboards prior to their arrival.

Severus, Rori, and Gretchen, who was poly–juiced as Ginny once more, rode the morning train from Hogsmeade to King's Cross, then took the Muggle tube to Gretchen's flat. They were all dressed as Muggles, and when Gretchen got to the front door of her building, she was startled to find the keys to it in the pocket of her denims.

"It's been so long since I thought about normal things," she muttered as she let everyone in. Once through and into flat, everyone got settled in, Rori squealing when she found the telly.

Severus had to call her back to remind her to take off her coat and shoes. He turned to Gretchen and said, "Welcome home."

Gretchen put her things away without thought. Shrugging off an invisible burden, her coat went on the hook, the keys in the bowl on the table, and she turned away.

Severus touched her shoulder, and she paused. Her staff was Disillusioned, but Severus tapped it with his wand to end the charm.

Gretchen gave a tired smile in thanks, and slid her hand around the grip of the staff. Without a word, she walked into her bedroom and shut the door.

The rest of Severus's morning was spent acclimating himself to Gretchen's enhanced flat. The house–elf had brought their things over prior to the trip so they could travel unencumbered. Rori spent the time sprawled in various odd positions across Gretchen's settee, watching telly.

Gretchen did not emerge again until Severus lightly rapped and announced lunch. She looked as though she had slept, but not much or well.

Lunch passed with efficiency. Rori managed to chew her food, but barely, her urgency for more time in front of the telly cause great distraction. Gretchen ate what she was given, but without much concern for what was on her plate. Not one for prattle, Severus made quick work of his meal.

He was just cleaning up the lunch dishes when a horrible electronic 'bell' rang.

"Uncle Neville!" Rori shouted, running to the box that emitted the wretched tone.

Severus grumbled under his breath. _Longbottom._ He'd forgotten that Gretchen and Rori were expecting him this weekend, what with the dreams and the destruction of his beloved cottage, and inserting a holiday into their schedule. Severus scrubbed the plate in his hand with a bit of extra effort.

Gretchen went to the speaker box to confirm it was Neville, and then pressed a button, Severus presumed, to let him in. A short while later, Longbottom's usual knock came upon the door.

Rori reached to pull the door open, but Gretchen stilled her hand, peeping through the hole a moment before nodding her head. Finally, Rori could open the door and dive for her uncle. Longbottom navigated his way through the door, stiffly moving his legs against the force of Rori.

Gretchen took his coat. Once it was on a hook, Neville gently scooped her into a hug. Gretchen returned it, flinching but squeezing his chest tightly.

"What's this, then?" Neville asked as he pulled away. "What's got you all back... here?"

"Dad wanted to give Gretchen a break from the cottage. It's a holiday! There's _telly!_ " Rori announced, dragging Longbottom to the settee.

"It's not a very nice one. I don't much care for telly," Gretchen said mostly to herself. "How did you find us?"

Severus watched them from the kitchen, having magicked a small mirror into the corner of the cupboard so he could see what played out.

Longbottom dropped his chin as Rori climbed under his arm, aiming the remote at the telly as though it were a wand. "I might have followed you home from your job on occasion," he said, shame–faced. "I'm sorry. It's weird. I shouldn't've. But you looked just like Hermione, and Harry and Severus had said, and I just wanted to know..."

Severus could see Longbottom's face looking wary and repentant, but he couldn't get a good angle on Gretchen. She was quiet for a moment, and Rori flipping between channels was painfully distracting for Severus.

"It's alright, I suppose. I mean, I understand. If I was your friend, you'd want me to be safe, and you'd be curious."

Longbottom was obviously relieved, but he must have felt very guilty about it since he leaned away from Rori and closer to Gretchen. His gaze fell to the floor. "Very. But it's uncouth, isn't it? And, well, _I_ knew you'd be safe."

"Why do you say that?" Gretchen asked, leaning forward as she finally took interest in the conversation.

"If you had her body, you'd have the brand." Longbottom absently rolled his shoulder where his was and smiled. "The phoenix brand, you know? It's got magic in it, things to help you heal if you're hurt and everything."

"You mean the bird on my hip is _magical?_ "

Severus had seen the brand on more than one occasion. To say it was on her hip would be putting it mildly.

Longbottom blushed and cleared his throat. "After the Department of Mysteries, we knew we could really get hurt, like _really_. Ginny and Harry and Luna, you – Hermione, I mean – me, and Ron. We took steps."

Gretchen shook her head in a negative way, not understanding. "Brand?"

"The phoenix," Longbottom started but his voice caught. He was really starting to turn pink. "On your, you know, erm... pelvis. It helps your body heal. If you got hit with a hex or a jinx or something, it wouldn't do as much damage, or you might be able to recover more quickly. It's not perfect, mind you, but they were – it was Bellatrix Lestrange and everyone, you know!"

"I don't know," Gretchen said, curling up in her chair. Her hand moved over the spot where her phoenix was, closer to where the baby had grown than her hip, but her body folded up so her feet were tucked beneath her.

Severus hadn't realised that he wasn't the only one who had seen the mark on his wife, but of course, someone would have had to cast the spells. Besides Hermione, Severus would have to grudgingly admit that Longbottom was the next best person to do such magic. His confidence and spellcraft had really evolved after that night in the Ministry. Moreso than most, Longbottom knew what it was like to fight and what it meant to lose.

Longbottom pulled completely away from Rori, moving to kneel where he could try and look Gretchen in the eye. He shushed her and touched her hand where it rested on top of her knee. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Severus shifted to change his vantage in the mirror. When he looked again, he saw a mist swirling on the floor. Rori seemed not to notice, entranced as she was by the telly. Severus stilled as much as he could, watching what he thought could be Longbottom talking to Hermione for the first time.

"You can't make an omelette without cracking some eggs, Nev. Did you save anything?"

"H–Hermione?" Longbottom asked, stammering. His back stiffened. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"I liked it when I saw you. You've become quite handsome. Gretchen finds you _familiar_."

That caused him to blush. Severus felt as though his heart was pounding against his ribs.

Longbottom held her hand tighter. "H–how?"

"Because... magic," she said.

"So stay." Neville pleaded. His voice was an urgent whisper.

"Were it only so simple," she whispered back.

In the kitchen, Severus's ears were piqued. His eyes flicked to Rori, who was still blissfully unaware.

"What do we do?" Longbottom pleaded. He was holding her hand in a white–knuckled grip.

Her other hand moved to push through Longbottom's mop of hair. "Keep on. We love seeing you lot. She may be dragging her feet, but she likes it when we're all together. She just doesn't know what it is to like, to be liked."

"How are you doing this?"

"She's very calm here." Then, Hermione turned to look at Severus. They stared at each other in the mirror. "This was a brilliant idea. Relaxing."

Then, Hermione winked at Severus in the mirror and turned back to Longbottom. Severus wished that he could chase her, bodily if he could, but he just stood, staring into the mirror while his heart pounded in his chest. Hermione turned back to Longbottom, pushing his hair away from his forehead once more.

In a quiet voice, she said, "I'm very tired. I have to go lay down." She braced herself on Longbottom's shoulder and used it to push herself up. Longbottom stood with her, and their fingers folded together for a moment before she drifted away toward the bedroom door. Around her, the mist began to subside, although not completely before the door closed.

The quiet click stirred Rori at last, but not much. She only reached out for Longbottom's hand to pull him to sit next to her.

In the kitchen, Severus cleared his throat. Longbottom turned to look. Severus held up a packet of tea in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. Without a word, Longbottom gestured for the latter, and Severus brought out a glass for each of them. The two men sat together and stared, unwatching, at the telly, drinking quietly as Rori devoured every flickering image.

* * *

That night, Gretchen wandered about her old flat a bit. Rori was asleep, having stayed up watching the telly until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Severus had heaved her up, and he and Gretchen had tucked her into her bed.

Then, Severus announced that he would have a shower. His face had the rough stubble that was the preamble to a salt and pepper beard. Gretchen thought he might have a bit of resentment for his grey, because she had noticed he never kept it for very long.

By now, Gretchen was more than familiar with his routine. She knew he would take a few minutes to shave carefully, then spend an equal amount of time in the shower.

She could imagine the steam and the subtle curves and lines of his form. She wasn’t sure if it was pure fantasy or part memory, but she… knew.

This morning of coming back to her flat, and then her time with Neville had left her feeling _luminescent_ , as was everything around her. Gretchen wondered if Severus and Rori could see the bright haze that surrounded everything, everywhere she looked.

More than ever, she felt _whole_.

Gretchen listened carefully for Severus to get in the shower. Right now it was the tap of his razor followed by the flow of the tap. Tap–tap–tap. Flow. Pause. Tap–tap–tap. Flow. Pause.

Gretchen slid her left hand up the length of the staff. Her right hand slid over the books and shelves and the high-back chair she’d gotten.

It looked like the high-back chair in Severus’s office.

Gretchen smiled.

_Finally_ , the shower began to run. Gretchen’s heart pounded in her chest. Like a runner waiting for the gun, she waited for the sound of the curtain.

Open…

…and back.

Gretchen trotted on bare feet to the magicked room that was Severus’s. She knew what she wanted but she wasn’t entirely sure where she would find it. Time was wasting.

She was struck, upon opening the door, by the smell of him. She almost swooned. Bracing herself on the doorknob, she pushed it so it was almost closed, but not quite. She turned and faced the bed. The model of efficiency, his case was tucked under the foot, the corner of the bedsheet turned down, the pillow mutilated and pounded into the shape he preferred.

She could easily climb in.

That wasn’t what she was here for though. She turned and eased open the second drawer of the bureau. There, in three stacks, 5 black cotton t–shirts. Severus had taken one in with him to put on after his shower: 2–2–1.

Pulling her teeth over her upper lip, she ruminated a moment. Her theft would be obvious immediately. One of the piles would be reduced, and their number would be obvious when Severus next opened the drawer.

Her hands gripped the front panel of the drawer. She didn’t hear her staff drop, but it did. It rolled on the rug a bit, and then stopped.

Deciding, finally, she grabbed from the middle. She turned for the door, clutching her prize in one hand. She reached for the knob with the other, but the door swung slowly open.

She stared at the knob.

“Pinching again? But I’ve caught you this time.”

Professor Snape’s voice snaked around her neck and into her ear. She was terrified. She’d be expelled. She took a deep breath. No. They had often joked about that, when they were alone in their rooms. No. She’d never had a need or desire to take something since she’d got to the cottage. All she had to do was ask if she wanted.

She smiled.

Clearing her throat, she smiled. She pulled the soft black cotton to her nose and breathed deeply. “Nothing here smells like you. I needed something. Especially if you’re planning to leave me.”

Severus frowned. “What? _Leave you?_

“Yes, well,” she paused to reach for her staff on the floor. “You’ve clearly decided that I’m better off here.”

“Are you drunk?”

She hummed. “Well, Severus. As I see it, if you won’t play house with me, then you have to. Like a fisherman who decides his catch isn’t large enough.” She lifted her fist and softly shook the shirt at him. “I’ll have a souvenir of you, at least.”

His eyes immediately tracked to a shining ring, hammered platinum. “What’s this on your hand?” His fingers circled around her wrist.

She looked up at him. He was birdlike.

“My wedding ring,” she said and smiled.

“Your?”

“Yes. Mine. I found it in a packet in a drawer earlier today.”

“ _You_?”

“Yes. _I_ found _my_ ring.”

“But you don’t even know who you are.”

The vulture-man leaned forward, towering into her space. She reached up and slid the tip of a finger down his nose. Before her eyes, her vision shimmered, and a man was peering down his nose at her finger, and then, at her.

“What is your name?”

The question sent a shiver down her spine. “Gre–mione? Her–tchen?”

Severus leaned back, rolling his eyes as he dropped her wrist. “One cannot simply cut two words in half and splice them together.”

“Fro-yo.”

“ _Urchin_.”

“You’re evading the point, Severus.” She stepped closer to him. “Either, you are making this a last stand for you and me and Rori, and you are going to steal her away at the end, leaving me here to be alone, returned to my life, a caught fish to be released. _Or_ you are going to take me home with you, and I mean, _home_ , professor. There will be no shared custody, no separation. I will be mother and wife.”

Severus stuck his chin out. “You don’t even know if you want to be married to me.”

“You are the only one I could dream of being married to.”

“We have discussed at length your many hallucinations, _Urchin_. I know quite well that you often perceive me to be a vulture, as recently as just a few moments ago. I know that glazed look in your eye.”

“And?”

“And part of you clearly thinks of me as a buzzard, an old beast that circles and preys off carrion.”

“Oh, don’t be melodramatic.”

Severus huffed and drew a breath, but Gretchen reached up and squeezed his nose between her thumb and forefinger.

“What shall it be, Snape? Will I be coming home with you?”

His lips curled, and his teeth ground together. “Of course.”

She stepped back, removed her top and put on his t–shirt. She watched his eyes flit for just a blink to her chest before looking away. Once the soft, black t–shirt was over her, she reached beneath and unfastened her bra from under the shirt. She left both her top and her bra on the floor where she stood.

She brushed past Severus, popping up quickly to kiss his jaw where she could, since his face was turned away. “Sweet dreams, you old buzzard.”

She padded to her room and opened the door. Just before it closed, she heard him whisper good night as well, and mumble something that sounded like ‘urchin’.


	24. Chapter 23

The rest of the visit to Gretchen’s former life was spent primarily as a visit in Muggle London, taking in all the usual tourist sites by day. After Rori had been tucked in at night, however, Gretchen began packing her things, choosing which belongings to take back to the cottage and which to abandon or donate. Further, plans were made to have the Hogwarts House Elves renovate the cottage. The elves were able to do the construction without changing much of the physical house.

It took a surprising amount of time, in part because of the magic which was used when the cottage was first constructed for Rori and Severus, and also because there were so many wards and traps and safeguards to resolve. This was a major magical deconstruction.

Severus had been _thorough_ in providing a safe place for his daughter to grow up, even if they might have spent very little time there over the years.

They had been living in the cottage while the elves worked. The project, finally, was coming to a close. A sort of astronomy tower-slash-meditation parlour-slash-study had been added to the southern corner of the house. Severus had toyed with the idea of one for a long time, but hadn’t had a good reason to add such a watchtower before now. There was an exterior staircase that swept up the north side of the cottage, arriving to new level. Inside, there was a spiral staircase that led into the hallway adjacent to Severus’s office.

Gretchen was fully immersed in the project, bringing a much needed stamp of her own on their home. She had spent countless hours meditating and making decisions, only relaxing with a book when Rori dragged her to her room.

Since mid-January, Gretchen had been taking quick naps with Rori in her bed to supplement her late nights. The ‘girls’ had a renewed fondness for each other.

Valentine's Day morning, however, found Severus and Rori in the Room of Requirement. They always spent the holiday together. They wore fine robes. They had fine food. Severus talked to his daughter about love and listened to her thoughts. He wanted to always learn from her and to always teach her.

Since the beginning of all of this, life had been increasingly off-kilter, however positive the progress might be. Thus, this year, Rori needed the special time with her father more than ever.

The Room of Requirement was lovely. Rori had walked past the door this morning, and the room had decorated itself into a library with high ceilings, that unique ‘eau de old book,’ and was painted in peach and purple tones. There were bouquets of flowers throughout the room in the same colours. Light reflected from the crystal vases.

They say at an ornate table in the centre of the room, finishing a third game of Go. The first game had gone to Severus, who had been ruthless as he covered the board in purple stones. Rori, antagonized into playing properly, had taken the second game, her peach coloured stones glimmering on the board. Severus was giving her a good challenge, and he would be victorious.

She would learn how to outplay him eventually, but this was not that year. Besides, they were having her favourite lunch: chicken and vegetable pie. As the game was magicked away and lunch was served, Rori clapped, pleasantly surprised. She tucked in happily and sighed a deep, satisfied sigh.

Severus took this as a good sign and asked if the pie was so good.

"Well, not exactly..." Rori looked up at him, and she whispered, "I’m having a really nice time, Dad. Sometimes, I miss when it was just you and me, and we travelled. …You know, just us.”

“Ah,” Severus said just before taking his first bit of pie.

“I mean, I love–” Rori froze, realising what she had just said, and the magnitude of so easily revealing a secret she had meant to keep. “That is, I mean, Gretchen is wonderful, but I miss when it was you and me.”

Severus took a deep breath and said, “I miss that, too. However, we will make new memories as the three of us. We already have, have we not?”

As he finished, he turned to look through one of the tall windows, out towards the cottage. What he saw was a very worrisome surprise: although they had dismantled many of the numerous protections around Severus's home, some remained and one was currently “going off”. He could see an indigo dome encompassing the cottage.

Someone had tried to enter his home, without permission, carrying an unauthorized item. Said person was now trapped inside that dome and likely to be quite agitated. However, Gretchen was there, and as he had learned, she was very capable of defending herself. Also, there were elves. There was no need to abbreviate lunch just yet.

“What is it, Dad?” Rori asked, turning to follow his gaze.

Severus turned to Rori and asked, “Well, it appears we are about to make ever more memories with our new urchin. Are you wearing your Portkey?”

“Of course,” she replied, her curiosity barely under control.

“Sit. Finish your lunch. It’s very good, and everything is under control out there.”

Rori turned back to the table and began to eat with gusto. “It’s only once we get back there that we lose control.”

“Very good.” Severus bowed to her before attending to his own lunch.

Once their plates were clean and they had both finished their milk, they pushed back from the table. Severus stood and adjusted his robes. “Aurora, we are expected to be out having a fancy lunch together. What can we do to look the part but also be ready for the unknown foe we face?”  
Rori looked down at herself. “Well, my shoes aren’t very good for doing much more than sitting inside. I should have trainers, and then it would look like I wasn’t ready when I am.”

“Very good.”

A pair of trainers appeared on the floor, and Rori put them on.

Severus looked up to the ceiling. “I’d like my good boots, please.” His worn-in dragon-hide boots appeared, and he put them on.

“I have my Portkey. I’m ready.” Rori waived an old handkerchief of Hermione’s before tying it around her neck like a scarf with a pretty bow.

Severus nodded and motioned for her to step close so he could Apparate to the cottage. Thankfully, the Room of Requirement let him through. Once inside, Rori crept to Severus’s office, where she could watch events unfold through the mirror. When she was safe behind the door, Severus walked from the kitchen to the living room, his boots clicking a slow rhythm, drawing attention to him as he took in the scene.

He found Gretchen, in a ruby red sweater and navy denims, with one hand on her staff and the other holding a small bubble with something inside it. Her arms were spread wide, and there was a scorch mark above her head.

Now Severus understood what Draco had said about her eyes. She had the look of someone holding too much magic. She was terrifying, but so like Hermione, it took his breath away.

The house-elf, in turn, was containing Gretchen as she was containing her target. Between them lay a dozen roses, looking as though they were thrown to the grown and crushed underfoot.

He took a deep breath. “What is the meaning of this?”

The house-elf trembled under his sneer and released her spell. “Shalby is keeping miss from doing magics.”

Severus bowed his head to the elf. “Release her, please, but remain on your guard.”

The elf nodded and dropped her bony, little hands. When she did, there was a bright blue flash, a scream, a growl, and Rita Skeeter was on her arse on the floor, once more crushing the roses.

Before he could open his mouth, there was another bright flash. This time, though, it was from a miniature camera that disappeared once the picture was taken.

“Severus Snape, how long has Hermione Granger been living in this residence?”

Then, another flash. That camera disappeared, as well. “Miss Granger, why have you allowed Wizarding Britain to believe you to be dead all these years?”

Severus, blood now boiling, opened his mouth to speak, but was again interrupted.

“Rita Skeeter, you vile, little insect!” Gretchen’s voice boomed. Around the living room, furniture trembled. Picture frames shook where they were hung on the wall.

Severus listened for the glass to start cracking, but it did not. Keeping his body still, his eyes raced around the room. Nothing was breaking. He looked to Gretchen. Unlike the event just after Christmas, she appeared to be in control. The iridescent mist was swirling throughout the room, but it seemed to twist around Skeeter where she cowered on the floor.

Brandishing his wand to gain Skeeter’s attention, Severus neared the centre of the room. “How did you get into my home?”

Having something else to focus on seemed to put some colour back in her cheeks. Skeeter preened a bit. “Every reporter has her secrets.”

Shalby, looking fearful for the first time, turned her head away. “Flowers being delivered,” she said, and the roses lifted from the floor into a poor representation of a formerly beautiful bouquet.

Severus had seen enough guilt-ridden house elves to know that Shalby was about to start castigating herself with the bouquet, that Severus immediately Banished it from the house. “She delivered the flowers?”

“No! The flowers were left by the gate,” Gretchen snarled.

“Then, how did _she_ get in here?”

In answer to his question, Gretchen lifted her staff and struck it on the floor. There was a flash of orange light. Then, a beetle floating in a bubble.

Severus turned to Gretchen, wary of her sudden command of her magic. “How are you doing that?”

“Remember, Severus, when we discovered Wormtail?” she replied, her voice coming less from her mouth than from every corner of the room. Again, her staff hit the floor, and another bright blue flash of magic. Rita Skeeter was on her arse, speechless.

“How could I forget?” That was the first night that he’d ever felt unyoked from the loss of Lily Evans. He had betrayed her, yes, but Wormtail… Wormtail had truly put death at her door.

“Sirius and Remus showed us.” Gretchen swayed on her feet.

“ _Sirius Black?_ ” Skeeter squealed, turning to face the story of the century.

“Quiet!” Gretchen’s voice boomed once more. She advanced on Skeeter. “You’re disgusting! We had a deal, Skeeter!”

That seemed to deflate the reporter some, and she settled back into the floor.

“Deal?” Severus asked, stepping closer to Gretchen, watching her sway.

“She’s an unregistered Animagus. I know her secret.”

Severus stood behind Gretchen now. “Is that so?”

Skeeter rolled her eyes. “It’s too late. Those pictures are already with my publishers. It’s likely to make the evening edition.”

“You don’t have an evening edition.”

Skeeter smiled, sharp teeth showing. “We will tonight. And if anything happens to me, a member of the press! Well, I can’t imagine what the papers would say…”

Severus could imagine, though. He looked to the house-elf and nodded. “You’ll have to, from the dungeons of Hogwarts. Shalby.”

Shalby nodded back, and left the cottage, taking the nefarious reporter with her.

With them gone from the room, Gretchen had no focus for her magic. She swooned, but Severus was there to catch her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body against his. “Sh… sh-sh… It’s safe; she’s gone now.”

The mist, also now without a target, began to swirl around them. Severus felt it coiling against his skin, rushing between his body and his robes as it wended toward Gretchen once more.

Severus dropped his mouth to Gretchen’s ear. “You were magnificent.”

“I’d do anything to protect our family.”

The once booming voice became far away. Severus stilled. “Hermione.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He pushed his mouth into her hair over her temple. “Stay. Just stay.” Far away, he heard her staff clatter to the floor.

Her hands were in his hair. They were falling, he felt like they were endlessly tumbling together. He wanted to chase her, follow her down this rabbit hole.

“Rori’s calling,” she whispered.

Like a boat on an anchor, Severus was lurched backward. The magic that had swirled around him now buffeted his body away from hers. Rori was not ‘calling’. Rori was screaming at the top of her bloody lungs. The house was trembling now, but from the outside, as people attempted to Apparate through his wards and failed.

Severus held up his hand, and Rori silenced immediately. “Get our Go-Bags, and come to my study. We’re going to Teddy’s house.”

There were about thirty seconds of activity before they were huddled together in front of the Floo in his office. Severus had arranged Gretchen so her arms were around his neck, holding him securely. Then, Rori threw the powder in the fireplace and hopped through. Severus cast one last spell on the door to his office, then followed his daughter through the Floo.

When his feet were on solid ground, Severus raised his head, to find Remus Lupin in a frilly blue robe, and Tonks Lupin mimicking a face she never thought she’d see again.

* * *

After the initial shock and bustle of the Lupins welcoming the wayward Snapes, Gretchen found herself in a bedroom with some of Tonks’s clothes to change into. She listened to Tonks shouting at Remus about keeping Hermione a secret all these years.

Gretchen, however, was having a hard time controlling her stomach. If she kept her eyes closed for too long, she had flashes of memory to a shabby old room she felt like she had spent a lot of time in with Ginny.

_The number 12._

_Doxies._

_A shouting portrait._

Something about the secret nature of this place was setting her off in a way she really didn’t like. Gretchen, much too warm in her jumper, pulled it off her body. She had taken to wearing one of Severus’s black t-shirts underneath her regular clothes when she could pinch one from his drawer. She grabbed Tonks’s shorts, exchanging them for her denims. She pulled off her woolen socks.

Feeling much cooler, smelling the lingering scent of Severus, her stomach settled. She grabbed her staff and snuck down the stairs and outside to the back garden. The fresh air made her feel better still, and she sat beneath the well-groomed branches of the strawberry tree which grew there.

She took a deep breath. One minute she had been thinking, on the one hand, about the ideal layout of her portion of the cottage’s new tower. On the other hand, she had been wondering what, exactly, Rori and Severus had got up to in the castle. The next minute, she was smelling beautiful roses someone had left at the door. Then, she was so _angry_ , unbridled fury coursed through her. Then, Severus had come home, and everything was chaos, and now… they were in Portugal.

The Order of the Phoenix still had safe-houses. Remus and Tonks and _Teddy_ , their son, lived in one, because Remus is a _werewolf_. The house was secret-kept, and so none of them could say, exactly, where they were.

Gretchen _knew_ this was all too much to comprehend, but she just couldn’t find the confusion in herself. When she had first arrived at hospital, she didn’t know anything, and now she felt as if she knew things that no one should know because they were bizarre or nonsense or unknowable.

She lay back onto the dirt and looked up at the green leaves of the tree. The top of her staff lay on her belly, and she toyed with the tendrils with her fingers.

She missed her wand.

She missed her friends.

Gretchen closed her eyes and imagined Hermione was next to her. They were in her parents’ back garden, staring up at the trees. It was a July morning, and Hermione had just read that the marriage law was about to be passed. She had already decided she would do it if Dumbledore asked.

She knew Harry wouldn’t want her to, but Harry could be so… short-sighted sometimes. She tried to imagine who it might that she would have to marry.

Gretchen and Hermione shared a look.

Harry had such a fit when it was Severus.

“At least it’s not Malfoy.”

They smiled.

“At least it wasn’t some foolish child.” Hermione had thought for a long time that seventh year boys did not know what to do with themselves, all full of magic and hormones and confidence, and little of anything substantial.

“Are you out here?” Tonks shouted, startling Hermione. _What could Tonks be doing at her parents’ home?_

“Here!” Hermione shouted and began to sit up.

“No, no! Don’t get up,” Ollivander insisted. “Leave us.”

Hermione frowned. This was now getting beyond confusing. She heard the shuffle of the old man coming forward, but she continued to finger the tendrils of her staff and stare up at the tree.

“Miss Granger… Oof.” Ollivander finally settled, sitting cross-legged beside her. “Your secret is out. In Britain, wizards and witches are in a right state. While I dare say you’ve overcome a great deal already, your journey is beginning anew. I remember the first time you came to my shop for your wand. Dragon heartstring. I had some of that left, and some of the rosewood from your staff as well.”

Hermione blinked and looked up at the old wand-maker.

“I don’t craft as often as I used to. My supply will outlast me by generations, I hope. But for all you’ve done for us, I wanted to make this for you. I hope I’m as qualified a wand-maker as people think me to be.”

Ollivander drew a long, thin box from the sleeve of his robe. It was white, aspen wood, the paler wood from her staff. He opened it, pulling the redwood wand from its satin bed.

He lifted her left wrist from her staff, and placed the wand in her hand.

Hermione took a great gasp and the garden filled with the light of the fog. She sat up, as if waking from a deep sleep.

Ollivander, when she turned to look, was smiling. He seemed a bit smug. “Welcome.”

“This is incredible. _Avis_.” Hermione turned her wand and half a dozen red-rumped swallows appeared in the garden. They watched the birds for a moment, and then she looked at her new wand. “Does this mean I’m …fixed?”

“Heavens, I don’t know. My expertise is in wands, dear, not Occlusion or maladies or anything else.”

Behind them, on the other side of the tree, someone cleared his throat.

“Nor incessant meddling,” Ollivander grumbled as Dumbledore appeared over them.

“Good afternoon, miss…?” Dumbledore looked at Hermione with his eyebrows raised.

“Hermione. Better to call me Hermione, now, no matter how, or perhaps, _who_ I feel going forward.”

“Albus. Help me up. I’m ready for tea,” Ollivander insisted. The two old men gripped hands, and both gave a show of much more strength than one might expect by looking at them.

Dumbledore turned to Hermione. “I’ll let you have a few moments to collect yourself.” He gestured around the back garden, where the tell-tale fog seemed to linger, neither moving in nor out.

When the men were through the door, Hermione took a deep breath. She imagined the doctors in the amnesia ward where she’d found herself. She imagined signing the agreement to her flat. She remembered her first job interview after she was released.

Setting her wand and her staff on the ground, she pushed her fingers through her hair: a short crop. She was still Gretchen, too.

She stood and took her staff in her right hand and her new wand in her left. She loved the now-familiar feeling of the staff in her grip, but she knew she would bumble with the wand in her left hand. She switched. Still awkward, but more manageable.

She took a deep breath. With arms extended in front of her, she tapped the staff into the soil of the back garden. A soft blue flame ignited. With her wand, she began to syphon the mist toward the flame.

However, as moisture grew around the staff, it didn’t sizzle or steam up. Instead, it seemed to transpire over her staff, spreading lower and lower, washing away all the runes clear to the hand-hold.

When she was done, she felt positively Gretchen, but with a wholeness she could not remember feeling thus far. She took a deep breath, ready to start her life as Hermione once more.


End file.
